Honeymoon Avenue
by HP-Forever-XX
Summary: Spin-off story of the multichap fic 'Rose and Scorpius: A Forbidden Love.' From Strangers, acquaintances, friends, enemies, lovers, and everything in between, Sam and Janey's relationship has never been easy, but it's certainly been passionate. But can childhood sweethearts ever remain sweet? Especially when they weren't all that sweet to begin with... [Incomplete] HIATUS
1. Prologue

_**Disclaimer:** Oh, how I wish I was Jk Rowling! Alas, I am not, and therefore do not own any of the characters, settings etc. Unless stated otherwise, everything belongs to her! Nor do I own any rights to Ariana Grande's song 'Honeymoon Avenue' which yes, this title (and the plot, to some extent) of this story was inspired by._

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 **Chapter 1 – Prologue**

* * *

 _I've always had high ambitions; I'm going to be a star. My dreams have always been big, and they just don't align with magic. You don't even have films or television over here. You don't have red carpets, and the West End, and the Oscars._

 _Magic is great, but I have always wanted to be a star. And I_ will _do it._

 _I've seen how it works, and I am determined enough to go down the same road. I would give everything up to be a star – to trade Hogwarts for Hollywood. I would lose my friends, my family – I would completely lose myself. And though I know this, I will get no satisfaction until I'm there._

 _And once I'm at the top they'll tear me apart. That's what they do. They rip you to pieces like you don't have feelings, like you're not a real person. They send you spiralling into despair until you're so consumed by your suffering that there's nothing of you left._

 _Nothing of the life you had before, nobody to support you, none of the strength and determination you used to have. You're just... empty. And I would still give everything I have for my moment in the spotlight – for my time to shine._

 _Why?_

 _Because they said I couldn't._

* * *

Janine Lucinda Davington was married, at twenty-two years of age, on the first of August 2028, to Samuel Christopher Tyler.

The widely anticipated ceremony occurred after a two-year engagement, a five-year relationship, and approximately 5,972 arguments between the happy couple.

In attendance were the bride and groom's respective families (of both magical and non-magical blood), old school friends, a handful of celebrities Janey considered worthy enough to attend her wedding, and about a dozen reporters Sam wished had not been exclusively invited by his new wife.

Through the storm of blinding camera flashes, and the deafening roar of reporters angling for exclusives on the newlyweds' future, Sam and Janey gripped each other's hands tightly, smiled politely, and made their way back down the aisle, now united in holy matrimony.

The following day they'd prepare to leave for their honeymoon – a brief but beautiful period in any couple's life, full of romance and bliss, where their young love can flourish – before returning back to normality and embarking on their new life together.

Unfortunately, as we are all aware, honeymoons do not last forever.

Six months later, in the very heart of winter, both halves of the infamous couple set down their pens, the ink scrawled on the contracts still fresh, finalising their divorce.

* * *

 _ **Author's Note:**_ _Okay, so, this is the second spin-off story (still not a sequel) from my 200-chapter ScoRose story 'Rose and Scorpius: A Forbidden Love' (the first being 'The Delightful (and Disastrous) Wedding of Rose and Scorpius'), though they do NOT follow in chronological order. In fact, the course of this story will overlap with, and exceed them both (hence why it's not strictly a sequel)._

 _Unlike the other two stories I've written in this franchise (franchise? wow, I sound like a real author XD), this story will NOT revolve around Rose and Scorpius, but Sam and Janey instead. It's something I thought about a lot during the writing of the latter chapters of AFL, and something I was interested in pursuing and sharing. Rose and Scorpius are still in the story, of course, as are the vast majority of the usual characters, but yes, please bear in mind that this story will centre around documenting the relationship of Sam and Janey._

 _Now, bearing that in mind, if you are a curious newcomer to this story, although it pains me to say, I would recommend NOT reading this story, purely because the characters and context will be unfamiliar. (If you want to go ahead and read my 200-chapter original story and THEN read this then I'll by all means encourage you, but good luck with that if you do!) It's just, AFL was incredibly complex in terms of plot and character development, and I don't want to dwell on establishing things in this story that were already set out in the others, because ain't nobody got time for that._

 _But if you are new to my take on N_ _ext-Gen, and would still like to read this story without reading the others, then I very much encourage you! I hope it makes enough sense without the additional context, and still reads as an enjoyable story. There are a lot of OCs obviously, and some unintentional slight deviations from canon. For example, JK recently revealed that James Sirius Potter is two years older than Rose, Scorpius, and Albus, whereas in AFL (which was written before this reveal), he's only one year older. In order to retain continuity within my own franchise (franchise, there it is again!), I've kept these slight deviations. Not that they're particularly significant._

 _SO_

 _ANYWAY_

 _As stated before, this story follows Sam and Janey. This is just a prologue to set the mood, but isn't where the story will start off, if that makes sense?_ _Chapter uploads will occur every Saturday starting from 27th February, and will_ _be quite lengthy, around 4,000 - 8,000 words each,_

 _I can't tell you for definite how long this story will be. I'm aiming for about twenty chapters, but you know what I'm like, it'll likely be much longer. Either a blessing or a curse depending on how you view it XD_

 _Okay, next point_

 _The italicised bit at the beginning of this chapter is an extract from Chapter 72 'The Truth About Janey' from Rose and Scorpius: A Forbidden Love, as I thought it would be a good reminder for helping set the tone of the story. I realise asking you to reread the entirety of AFL to refresh the context is a bit demanding considering the length, but I would definitely recommend rereading that chapter at least, and possibly the last ten if you're up for it ;)_

 _It has been a while, after all XD_

 _Each chapter will start with an italicised extract, either from AFL, or song lyrics. And each chapter will be named (other than this one) after a song that I feel sums up the content of the chapter. If you read much of my writing you'll know how inspired I am by music. (Taylor Swift references will be significantly lessened though ;) Though not absent!) But I'll establish this with each chapter._

 _A warning for this story though: This one's a bit more heavy duty than the two that preceded it. What I mean to say is, the characters are older, I myself am a lot older than I was when I first started AFL. It's more mature, shall we say. A Forbidden Love was very romantic, the ScoRose wedding was very light and comical, and this one, though not explicit, is certainly more mature._

 _It's not M-rated obviously, it's only a T, but then again, so were my other two, and I just want to clarify that there WILL be a noticeable difference between the style of writing and the themes explored. I obviously don't know who my audience are, but bear that in mind if you choose to read._

 _I'll stop rambling now, as I realise the A/N alone is longer than the whole prologue..._

 _Well, I really hope you enjoy the story!_

 _~ Ever_


	2. Kiss Me Again

_**Author's Note:** Thank you so much for your patience, guys. I am going to ATTEMPT to give you regular chapter uploads from now on, every Saturday starting today, but emphasis is seriously on 'attempt.' These chapters are a lot lengthier than I was used to writing for A Forbidden Love so, naturally, I have to invest a lot more time in my writing, as well as balancing my real life. I'll certainly try my best, and thank you for the support I've already received. I hope you enjoy :D_

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 **Chapter 2 – Kiss Me Again**

* * *

 _As bedraggled as the rest of them, short blonde hair ruffled and streaked with the same dirt that was smeared across her nose, she still managed to look effortlessly stylish. But her face was creased in concentration, like she was troubled – like she'd been desperately looking for somebody._

 _Janey's head snapped around sharply, and when her eyes fell on him, a look of relief washed over her – of breathless astonishment. She was cat-like when she ran, fast and agile._

 _So forcefully had Janey flung herself at Sam, that he barely had time to register what was happening before he was reacting with equal force. Small Janey may be, but how Sam had so effortlessly swept her into his arms, so much so that her feet were no longer on the ground, and was still able to kiss her with as much frantic enthusiasm as he was, was a mystery._

* * *

It had certainly been a memorable first kiss.

The aftermath of a brutal and bloody battle spanning well over twenty-four hours, pushing both of them to their physical, mental, and emotional limits, most of which Janey had actually spent imprisoned in a murky cell. And yet that hadn't at all detracted from the beauty of the moment in which her eyes had met his across the hall full of wreckage, where something previously unspoken and unacknowledged had seemed to flicker between them so forcefully that it had sent her running straight into his arms.

And even though it had been a shock, not only to herself, the recipient, and everybody who played witness to (and was possibly scarred by) the unlikely couple's first kiss, in that moment it had seemed so impossibly _right._ In that moment, despite the years of jealousy, anger, and aggressiveness, the two seventeen-year-olds had stolen a moment of light-hearted bliss.

And it had been exhilarating, elating. Beautiful. _Perfect._

Rose Weasley, who had had the displeasure of being stood by Sam's side as the dirty blonde whirlwind had come crashing into him, and the even greater displeasure of witnessing the way he so un-shamefully and enthusiastically took her into his arms, lifting her off her feet, meeting her kiss with equally as fervent passion, had quickly dismissed herself after a couple of double takes at the odd affair.

Not that either of them noticed. They were… busy, to say the least.

Samuel Tyler had little experience when it came to kissing. He had had two official relationships during his first six years at Hogwarts. One of which had been brief and unemotional, lacking in any form of romance other than hand-holding. And one which had been longer, though still brief in the long run, more emotionally-invested, and with whom he had shared an awkward, clumsy, but somewhat sweet first kiss. Plus several others.

But not like _this_. Never had he kissed his ex-girlfriend with as much warmth, passion, and _relief_ as he felt kissing Janey. And his total and complete lack of experience in the art of snogging was proving to be less of a problem than he might have imagined. Maybe that was because, unlike him, she was more than experienced in such an art, and as she had orchestrated it, seemed to be putting most of the effort in (not for his lack of trying though).

Or maybe it was because it was her, and it was him, and it was finally right.

Not that Sam had ever imagined kissing Janey, of course. Of all the scenarios he'd envisioned he and her in, most involving some kind of decapitation or permanent Silencing Charm, _kissing_ had never once been involved.

Certainly not.

Not those dreams that had involved some kind of blonde girl who just _happened_ to have her exact haircut and been her exact height.

Not all those times he'd closed his eyes to kiss Isabella and his mind had subconsciously wandered so much to the point where, once he reopened them, he was surprised to see raven hair and dark blue eyes rather than the gentle sky blue pools that Janey had.

That had been unintentional; it hadn't _meant_ anything.

Janey kissed with an urgency, a desperation, that Isabella never had. Like they would never get another chance. Like it was now or never.

Maybe it was.

The moment their lips parted and Sam delicately lowered Janey back to the ground, a sense of coldness seemed to strike them both. No longer touching in the slightest, no longer even at eye level, both breathless, both still a little shocked by what had just transpired, that's when the initial embarrassment kicked in. It was as though, during the kiss, they had been transported – far away from the grungy debris, and the fresh trauma of the battle and those trying days leading up to it.

But now they were back. They were there, in the remains of Rosewood Manor, and they had just _kissed._ And very publically at that.

Janey looked up at Sam's face, hurriedly closing her mouth from where it had been hanging down in shock, eyes wide, dirt-smeared cheeks red, suddenly mortified at what she'd just done. Sam too, opened and closed his mouth in a flustered manner, hair still mussed up from where Janey had grabbed at it at the back, face perhaps even redder than hers.

What was one supposed to do in that situation? What was one supposed to say?

"Ah…" Sam managed to gulp.

Janey just looked away in a hurry, as though to look him in the eye any longer would send her over the edge.

"I, umm," Sam tried again, his hand subconsciously moving to the back of his head where Janey's hand had just been, in order to try and flatten his hair.

He and Janey didn't talk at the best of times, and if they did it was only ever to yell at each other. They hadn't ever shown even the remotest bit of affection towards each other – they _weren't_ affectionate. They hated each other; they couldn't stand each other. And not even in a jokey, flirty, love-hate kind of way.

That wasn't _them._

But something had changed. Something they couldn't just ignore. And perhaps their feelings for each other weren't exactly clear. Perhaps there had always been a lot of underlying desire beneath all the jealousy and the aggressiveness – of which had now been made blindingly obvious – but neither one of them even knew how to address it within their own selves, let alone with each other.

"Do you, err, want to sit down?" Sam suggested in a sort of grunt. He couldn't understand why he was lowering his voice so much.

He and Janey, though stood side by side, were profusely _not_ looking at each other. Janey had even folded her arms, like she couldn't care less about the whole situation. That was what she was like though, Sam reminded himself. It's why he'd always struggled to read Janey. She was so stubborn, so closed off.

Perhaps now, after that frighteningly public display of affection, she would be able to come to terms with her own emotions, and be able to speak freely about it. And he too.

Sam supposed now was a better time than any. Who was to say what would happen when they got back to Hogwarts. Would he and Janey slip back into their old familiar routine? Bitter and spiteful towards each other, that constant sparring? And all because… what? Because deep down they were so driven by a _different_ kind of desire for the other? Because they were channelling their passion in vicious, angry ways, rather than accepting it for what it was?

Or would things be different, Sam considered with an ounce of trepidation. Would the dynamics of their relationship change? Would they be _affectionate_ around each other, as they'd just displayed? Would there be _more_ kissing? And God forbid, would their relationship actually become a _relationship_ of sorts?

Is that what he wanted? Is that was _she_ wanted?

There was only one way to find out.

Janey made a sort of noncommittal huffing noise at his suggestion. Confused and unsure, just as she always made him feel, Sam decided to accept it as confirmation and take the lead.

Just behind where he and Rose had been talking prior to Janey's arrival there was a huge glass window, sunlight streaming down through the remaining shards, highlighting the dust that clouded in the air. And below that, an alcove of sorts, more than big enough, and fairly private enough for two people to sit and converse.

Following Sam's lead, Janey obligingly walked over to it, and the two were settled.

From where they were sat they had a perfect view of the goings-on of the hall in its entirety. All around them happy reunions were occurring between friends, families, students, teachers, companions, and loved ones in general. It only added to the now hugely awkward tension between the two.

Their knees were only a couple of inches away from each other, but the distance felt huge. How was it that just moments ago their hands, bodies, mouths, _everything_ had been pressed up against each other? So casually, so excitedly.

There was no excitement to be found now. Just extreme discomfort. Janey had her arms wrapped around herself (Sam tried not to think about how his had been wrapped around her just minutes ago), and she was still refusing to look at him.

Sam engrossed himself in cleaning a bit of dirt off of his knuckles. Was Janey going to say anything? Was she going to acknowledge, in any way, that she had just initiated a pretty heavy kiss between the two of them? And it had been so public too; they couldn't pretend like it hadn't happened.

But he needed to know. He needed to know what was going on in her mind and her heart, before he could even begin to think about what was going on in his own. But would either of them, stubborn and aggressive as they were with each other, actually swallow their pride and admit to the other how they truly felt?

"So, ah" – Sam cleared his throat – "I guess we should talk…"

Janey ignored him. Or, at least, didn't jump at the chance to offer a response. She glanced down at her feet. A hole had been ripped in one side of her shoe, and the sole was starting to flap, which was suddenly incredibly fascinating to her.

Sam subconsciously rolled his tongue in his mouth, wondering what it would be like if it were in Janey's mouth…

He glanced at her, mortified, but she wasn't even looking, and of course, he reminded himself stupidly, it wasn't like she could possibly know what was going on in his mind.

Which is _why_ , he reminded himself firmly, they needed to talk about it all. Now, Janey was a gossiper, there was no doubt about that, and she loved nothing more than talking about herself. But never about feelings. Never about anything deep. She was very guarded, very closed off, never allowing anyone to see her vulnerable side, and Sam didn't know why that was.

But he knew he needed her to open up. They couldn't just beat about the bush, they couldn't just ignore it all, they _needed_ to be honest with each other. About how they really felt, and about where they stood now. Had it been a heat of the moment kiss? Had Janey, having been imprisoned for the last twelve hours, been so overwhelmed and caught up in the elation of their victory and her new freedom, that it had just been a result of a little too much excitement?

Had it been, say, Mason, or Albus, or any other male companion who'd been stood where Sam had been, would she have responded in the same way?

It wasn't like he and Janey exactly had a romantic history, was it. Despite how he may or may not feel about her…

Was her embarrassment maybe not at her own forwardness, but maybe out of disgust, he suddenly feared. Perhaps she was horrified at what she'd done. Perhaps there hadn't really been any underlying emotion beneath it all anyway. Or maybe it just hadn't been any good. Janey had kissed a lot of guys, it didn't take a genius to figure that out; perhaps Sam's technique had been… disappointing.

And maybe she wasn't interested in him anymore. Maybe it had just been a heat of the moment, one-time thing, which she never wanted to dwell on again. Would he be okay with that, Sam wondered. Is that what he wanted? Did he want it to mean nothing? Did he want it to mean something more?

The only way he was ever going to find out was to have a very open, honest, and emotional conversation with her. He looked towards her, ready to repeat the question, or try and prompt her to even look at him, but he needn't have bothered, because she did so anyway.

Janey's nose, he noticed, was perfect. Despite the dirt, and what he suspected to be blood, that was caked onto it, along with most of her face, it looked very cute. Small and smooth, with a cute little upturn – a button nose, they called it – like a baby's. In fact, her whole face, her whole demeanour in fact, was very youthful, very child-like. Perhaps it was her height, he mused. But her skin, indeed, was soft and dewy, her complexion smooth, and her eyes incredibly blue. It was the first time he'd ever really noticed how _pleasing_ he found her to look at. Even though in that moment, exhausted, dirty, and war-torn, she probably looked her worst.

She was watching him now, tentative, her eyes wide and anxious, like a scared child. It was very infrequent that he saw her in any state other than her default bossy, loud-mouthed one. It rather unsettled him, but he found it transfixing.

"So, uh," Sam breathed out, ready to re-announce that they should talk. Even though he could sense there was nothing she'd rather do less. Still, it _had_ to happen; they couldn't avoid it.

But she interrupted him, with a perfectly innocent, serious, and casual attitude. Her eyes flickered briefly to his lips before back to his eyes. "Do you wanna make out?"

Sam just blinked, not as startled by the frank and open suggestion as he might have been. _No_ , he thought, he wanted to have an emotional heart-to-heart in which they could address their emotions and figure out the confusing state of their relationship.

Half a second passed.

"Yeah, sure."

Both had moved before Sam could even finish his rushed, two-word answer, so eager were both to recapture that gloriously passionate moment.

 _To hell with emotional heart-to-hearts_ , a voice at the back of Sam's mind piped up with greedy delight. He knew she was only doing all she could to avoid that painful, exposing confrontation they both knew they needed to have, but what did he care? He wasn't a fool; he wasn't going to turn a good thing down.

It was different now that they were sat down. Their bodies, for one, were not pressed up against each other, meaning they were solely connected by their mouths. And yet it felt more intimate somehow. And now that Sam wasn't so preoccupied with holding her, balancing her body weight against his, his hands were free. He didn't do much, he didn't really know _what_ to do to be honest, but he brought them up to the sides of her face.

And as his hands had moved, her hands, he noticed, had instinctively moved to him as well. She held his body rather than his face, his ribcage to be more precise, just below where his arms were outstretched to cup her face. Not the most intimate, he thought, but then again, where did he expect her to put them? She was too short, too small to be able to reach her hands up and hold his head like she had before, not with the position of his arms blocking her.

No, the only place she could put them, given that there was still distance between them (they weren't wrapped around each other as they had been before), was below shoulder height. And it wasn't like she was going to start grabbing at his thighs or anything, was it?

 _Oh God,_ Sam groaned in his mind, _don't envision that kind of thing…_

Sam couldn't help but think of Isabella. He was suddenly very aware of how clinical their physical relationship had been. Sure, they had kissed several times, but their bodies hadn't ever really been it. Their _mouths_ had barely been in it; it had felt like a necessity, like a casual _thing_ , that just had to be done. It had been somewhat nice, sure, but not like this.

 _Oh God, not like this._

Everything in Sam's body seemed to be buzzing _._ He felt more than elated and giddy, he felt electrically charged. Janey exerted a sense of expertise. Not static and awkward like Isabella always had been, Janey had a rhythm that Sam easily and almost subconsciously picked up. It wasn't outrageously explicit ( _not yet, anyway,_ Sam briefly thought, before realising it and dismissing it with a sense of shock), but the way her lips rolled against his, the way she moved her head, even the way she breathed, it was all so well-conducted, and so _exciting._

Sam started to wonder whether he should do something more with his hands, but he was uncertain. And to be perfectly honest, he was putting too much energy and attention into the actual kissing itself; he couldn't just multitask like that. Or at least not in a way that would actually be satisfying to either of them.

He moved a thumb, ever so slightly, as though stroking her cheek; it was all he could about manage. But it didn't go unnoticed. At the new touch, Janey too moved her hands, gripping his ribs just a little tighter as though pulling herself closer. Their knees, Sam realised, were now touching. It wasn't exactly a huge difference, but it only made him more aware of how many different body parts were touching. Knees, hands, mouths.

Considering her legs had been wrapped around him during their first go, and his hands had been _incredibly_ close to actually holding her bum, he wasn't sure why the thought of their knees touching suddenly excited him so much.

Although he was trying to solely focus his mind on getting his technique right, and actually get lost in such a moment, Sam's mind couldn't help but wander. He hadn't opened his eyes since that second kiss had begun – he'd had no desire to – but he remembered, all of a sudden, where they actually were. Though hidden away in a little window alcove, they weren't exactly hidden from view.

He wondered whether anybody was watching him and Janey – the two bloodied-up teenagers, furiously making out by the broken window like their lives depended on it. His _teachers_ were there, he realised, his fellow students, and his and Janey's mutual friends…

Oh God, they were going to take the piss out of him when – _if_ – he and Janey ever stopped snogging. The boys especially. He wondered if they'd known already – if they'd seen this coming. He and Janey. Had it been obvious to everybody else that there had been a very forceful, driving longing for each other beneath the bitter exterior? As blatant a fierce romantic tension as between Rose and Scorpius?

Because Merlin knows _that_ had been obvious to anybody other than themselves.

Had that maybe been true of Sam and Janey too?

But Rose and Scorpius had a history, Sam reminded himself. They'd been together, albeit long ago, and even though they'd been separated for a year and a half, you'd have to be blind not to see the deeper emotions that ran through both of them. But he and Janey didn't have that. They didn't have a history. Not a particularly positive one, at least.

Everybody was probably too caught up in their own reunions and celebrations, Sam decided. Nobody was probably paying much attention to them.

Janey's right hand briefly moved from Sam's torso. Not that he could see, given that his eyes were closed, and because of how energetically invested in the kiss he was, but it had been to offer a silent, one-fingered salute to the group a few feet away from the snogging couple, her back to them. It consisted of James, Taylor, Gwen, Albus, and Mason, who were watching the display with sickening curiosity and great amusement, with James seeing how much he could levitate a bit of debris to gently knock against the back of Janey's occupied head before she snapped and responded. She did so with remarkable grace, never once breaking the kiss or even looking towards them. They all cheered. Sam didn't even notice.

That kiss could have lasted for hours, no one could be sure, least of all Sam and Janey. Sam had started to consider that maybe _not_ having an emotional heart-to-heart would actually be the best solution. If he played his cards right he could have many a snog with Janey in the future – he could very well lose that benefit if they started putting emotions into the mix. But he was suddenly finding it difficult to breathe. Perhaps from experience, she had well and truly mastered the art of breath control, but he could feel the tightness in his chest and the heat under his collar (for far more reasons than the blissful passion of such an embrace).

But she seemed to sense this. It was Janey who fully stopped it (which was just as well, as Sam might have died if she hadn't), but their hands remained in place. Sam gulped in a mouthful of air, feeling hot, sweaty, and a little embarrassed by his own inadequacy.

"You're, ah, really good at this," he said through his panting, before he could even stop himself and realise what a weird and pathetic thing he was saying. Who complimented someone on their kissing ability?

"It's not my first time," Janey murmured back in a low, amused voice, her mouth still only separated from his by about an inch.

 _It wasn't my first time either_ , Sam wanted to protest, but then thought better of it. Maybe he really _was_ that bad. Maybe she'd find it more endearing and acceptable to think he'd never had a proper snog before. Although, to be fair, after _that_ , he wasn't sure he could possibly describe anything he'd shared with Isabella as a 'proper snog.' And besides, he didn't really want to bring Isabella, nor his romantic interactions with her, to Janey's attention right then…

Unlike the aftermath of the first time, they didn't immediately break away and leap apart in shock and embarrassment. Their hands remained in place, hearts wildly beating, hot, flushed, only inches apart. And when their eyes locked, gentle shared smirks broke out onto their faces, genuine laughter, a little shy, but with deep honesty. Sam couldn't ever remember laughing with Janey. It felt new and refreshing.

Slowly, they began to remove their hands from each other, that sense of immediate coldness creeping back in. Though they moved their bodies back to upright sitting positions, no longer leaning into each other, close and lingering, their knees remained touching. It felt weirdly satisfying to Sam, to have Janey's jean-clad knee resting against his.

But there was a new question to ask: Now what?

The second round of snogging was done, and Sam wasn't sure he could physically take much more. It's not that he didn't _want_ to; it's just that it was oddly draining. He feared he might sweat all over her if he tried again.

But it didn't feel like the time to talk anymore. Not in a heartfelt way. Not about _them_ , at least. Causal conversation then? Playful and light?

But Sam drew a blank. What to _say_ to Janey? He and her had never just _talked._ Not unless it was arguing or merciless, vicious teasing. Had they _ever_ had a genuine, pleasant conversation, he suddenly though with alarm. Two years together as Prefects, you'd have thought they would have…

"I'm going to go talk to the others," Janey announced, nodding to a group that must have formed in the centre of the hall sometime during their snogfest. They were all there, Sam realised – Rose, Scorpius, Taylor, Gwen, Ebony, James, Mason, Albus – all of their mutual friends really, along with the headmistress.

He made some kind of affirmative, noncommittal noise, unsure what to really say or do. Still struggling to catch his breath if he was perfectly honest. Janey smiled, tucked a strand of short blonde hair behind her ear, and then hurried over towards the group. Sam just sat there, watching her go, feeling stupid and awkward.

She had a nice bum, he thought to himself, as he watched her retreating figure. He'd never noticed before. Even though she was small, she had nice curves. Not hugely emphasised, but she certainly filled out her jeans well. Not like Isabella, who had been skinny and flat, nor like Rose, who had been a hopeless crush of his for the first four years of knowing her.

Still feeling stupid and awkward, Sam thought of nothing else to do other than to follow Janey to the group of their friends. He wondered if any of the others would be able to sense what he and Janey had just been up to (unaware was he to the fact that _everybody_ had seen them at it anyway).

The following events played out unforgettably. Janey would learn she had a half-sister in rival Slytherin and Metamorphmagus Jinx Capella; the students would retreat to a more private room to share in celebratory drinks; Sam and Janey would find themselves sharing a goblet, laughing and generally being playful around each other; they would be outright confronted by their friends on the nature of their relationship and their unsubtle snogging; they would both profusely deny it, stubbornly insisting they still loathed each other; a mishap with Veritaserum would force them to confess otherwise; and then, once again, despite the roomful of onlookers, Sam and Janey would find themselves unashamedly snogging the life out of each other for the third time that day.

Oh yes, it had certainly been a memorable first kiss.

And a second…

And a third…

In fact, that first night alone following the finalisation of the divorce, a twenty-two year old Janey sat huddled up on her windowsill, replaying not only their first kiss as foolish, naïve seventeen-year-olds, but every kiss they'd ever shared since that day. She remembered them all.

Sam did the same.

* * *

 _ **Author's Note:** Italicised extract at the beginning was taken from chapter 190 'Victory' of Rose and Scorpius: A Forbidden Love. Title inspiration comes from We Are The In Crowd's 'Kiss Me Again' ft. Alex Gaskarth_

 _Also, just a thing to mention - often I'll collectively refer to Sam and Janey as 'seventeen-year-olds' when in actual fact, at this point in the story, Janey would only be sixteen (as her birthday is the end of July). Doesn't really make any difference, I just wanted to point that out_


	3. Everybody Talks

**Chapter 3 – Everybody Talks**

* * *

 _Hey, baby, won't you look my way?  
I can be your new addiction  
Hey, baby, what you gotta say?  
All you're giving me is fiction_

 _It started with a whisper  
_ _And that was when I kissed her_

* * *

The return from Rosewood Manor had created quite the awkward and confusing atmosphere between the two. Despite the multiple public displays of affection in the Manor, despite the mishap with the Veritaserum, despite the fact that the whole school was buzzing with gossip about the startling new couple, Sam and Janey seemed to be profusely denying that anything even vaguely romantic had occurred between them.

Not that it had at all been romantic, per se. _Passionate_ seemed more appropriate.

Even still, upon returning to Hogwarts they seemingly slipped back into old habits. It was one of the most talked about speculations for the students of Hogwarts since the 'battle heroes' had returned. You'd have thought, given the nature of the adventure and the battle the select group of students had just been involved in, meaningless relationship gossip wouldn't have been at the forefront of everybody's eager minds.

Sam and Janey weren't alone, of course. A _lot_ had gone down at Rosewood. Professor Bobbin, the Hogwarts headmistress, and Professor Roberts, the resident Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, had come back _engaged._ Romantic involvement between the two had certainly been speculated by the Hogwarts populace, but if it had even been real it had all been very hush-hush. That they were now announcing they were to be married was huge, and scandalous, and exciting!

But then, even _that_ was not as shocking as the almost-certified rumours that were going around that James Potter and the headmistress' daughter, Ebony Snow, who's absence from the returned group was hugely noticeable, had actually run off and _eloped._

And then there was the matter of the hugely scandalous affair of Rose Weasley and Scorpius Malfoy. Their relationship had been huge over the years, publicly condemned, with scandal and drama thrown in at every turn. The whole school had watched with bated breath at their reunion only a month prior, riddled with anger on her part, and full of sly charm on his own. Rumour had it that things had certainly gone down in Rosewood – that a romantic reconciliation in the not-too-distant future was not out of the question.

All of this left the whole school guessing.

But Bobbin and Roberts, though thrilling at first, quickly lost its appeal. Now that it was one hundred percent confirmed that the speculated couple were together, and very serious at that, there was no longer anything fun and mysterious to ponder. And who knew what was going on with James and Ebony. Whether they were really eloping or not would only be made apparent upon their return; nothing was set in stone.

No, there were far more pressing and exciting things happening _inside_ Hogwarts to focus on until those details were revealed.

And even Rose and Scorpius, though theirs was a story that provided eager anticipation, was it _really_ so surprising that they'd get back together? Hadn't that been _obvious?_ It wasn't exactly a huge surprise.

Not like the rumoured snogging sessions between the Sixth Year Gryffindor Prefects.

Sam Tyler and Janey Davington were _very_ well known within Hogwarts. Not only because they were Prefects, but because of the dynamics of their personalities, especially when combined. Janey had always made herself very well-known within the school, even before gaining her title. She was loud, she was bossy, she was showy – she often ignited most of the rumours that circulated the school, an omniscient being at the heart of all gossip. (Not to mention that she'd probably dated half the school's male population).

Sam was known for other reasons. He'd been caught up in the Rose-Scorpius drama in time gone by, and since becoming a Prefect he'd quickly made a name for himself. He was kind-hearted, polite, well-spoken and well-loved by students of his own house and often others. Not to mention that both he and Janey played for the Gryffindor Quidditch team – just about the closest thing the school could get to celebrity status.

And, of course, given that they were close friends of the Potter-Weasley children (the other closest thing you could get to celebrity status).

But it hadn't ever really been for those reasons that the Hogwarts students had watched these two with deep interest and great amusement. It was almost comical how frequently and dynamically they were at each other's throats. Very loud, very public arguments; savage and unforgivable ripping apart of each other's relationships; verbal sparring over even the slightest bit of difference in opinion. They drove each other _crazy_ , always finding new ways to get under the other's skin.

And all of this had led the spectators to form but one simple conclusion: They fancied the hell out of each other.

Sam and Janey's 'would they, wouldn't they' relationship was observed with eager enthusiasm. Would they ever give in? Would they ever admit to what the whole school could see was obvious? That their anger was fuelled only by overwhelming longing and _desire_ for the other. That their pettiness and hostility was merely to mask the subconscious frustration they felt at not being able to give in to their own passion.

But, of course, that had all changed. _Rumour had it_ , they'd had quite the snog on their little mission.

The whole school was eagerly watching. Eagerly waiting for confirmation that there was truth in those rumours.

But Sam and Janey gave nothing away.

Upon their return to Hogwarts it might as well have been that that one week away from the school hadn't even happened. They weren't exactly hostile around each other, but there was certainly no observable shift in the state of their relationship. They seemed to be almost ignoring each other.

It wasn't even just the mindless onlookers from the lower school; even their friends had no idea what was going on.

In fact, even _Sam_ didn't know what was going on. It was all Janey; he was following her lead.

Although he was certainly uncertain and apprehensive about pursuing anything with her, given the nature of her as a person, and the nature of their entire companionship up until that point, as the hopeless romantic that he was, he very eagerly would have allowed for the assumed changes that one would expect following a pretty heavy snog (several at that), in the way they'd interact with each other.

It wasn't like Sam was desperate to have a committed relationship with her or anything – Merlin's beard, the very notion! But he couldn't even lie to himself and pretend he wouldn't very much enjoy kissing her again. Maybe he didn't want to be her boyfriend or anything (good grief, what a task that would be), but he wasn't sure he wanted to be so bitter and argumentative with her like they had been before. In the aftermath of their furious snogging sessions, he'd expected at least some deviations from their usual interactions.

He'd half expected casual, subtle changes – a coy, shared smile every now and again, sitting together in group situations, maybe even hand-holding.

But Janey was _not_ having it.

She re-distanced herself from Sam the moment they got back to Hogwarts, both physically and emotionally. She had been huffy and standoffish, oddly irritable. Not odd at all for her, of course, but just odd to Sam given the huge thing that had happened between them. She did not return his attempts to catch her eye and smile at her, she made it very apparently clear that she did not like being physically close to him, she did not engage in conversation with him, she barely even looked at him.

It wasn't like he was expecting her to sigh and swoon over him, insist on strolling the castle with her arm in his, batting her eyelashes, or publically declare to the world that he was the apple of her eye and start spouting soppy poetry. That wasn't Janey. That hadn't ever been Janey; that _wouldn't_ ever be Janey.

She was the opposite of Sam in that sense. She wasn't a romantic type.

God no, he hadn't expected them to all of a sudden start acting like Rose and Scorpius, who had never shied away from being very publically and heart-baringly affectionate, and soppy, and romantic.

But he had expected _something_ to change.

He knew what it was. He expected it to be her way of further putting off 'the talk.' That slip with the Veritaserum had forced them both into confessing they very much fancied the other, that their vicious and savage jealousy of any other kind of third party interest had been a result of such a fancying. Janey could not pretend otherwise, not when so many people had played witness. Even if she passed off the snogging as being a result of the thrill of victory, she could not pass off the fact that she had admitted she was attracted to Sam, and that she had spitefully broken him and Isabella up because of it.

She was embarrassed, then. Or perhaps she was scared.

Sam couldn't pretend he understood Janey, after all. He didn't know why she was so guarded, why she couldn't be even remotely liberal with her feelings unless it was forced out of her by an incredibly strong truth potion, why she had never fully committed herself to a relationship. Why was she so reluctant? So shielded? So _afraid?_

And, taking him quite by surprise, Sam found he wanted to know. He truly, deeply wanted to know. He wanted Janey to pour her heart out to him, to show him her deepest insecurities and her most vulnerable emotions. He wanted to know her on a much deeper level; it wasn't just something physical he sought.

After two days since their return, of fierce ignoring on her part, and a sense of obvious distaste aimed at him, Sam had come to accept her behaviour. He had stopped fighting to have some more affectionate interaction with her, accepting that he could not encourage her to do so. And she had let her guard down; she had visibly relaxed once she'd noticed he'd stopped trying.

But that evening, Sam wasn't taking no for an answer. He wanted an honest straight-forward answer from Janey. He wanted her to either say yes, she _did_ want something more from him, or no, she truly wanted to terminate what very brief flirtations they might have had.

Not that 'flirtations' was really the right word for it. Desperate snogging, sure, but it hadn't been remotely flirtatious or romantic. It had just been very, _very_ passionate. A type of energy he couldn't really relate to an emotion. Just a lot of urgency.

Either way, he was going to up his game that night. She'd either take the bait or tell him to knock it off. And then at least he'd know. Then he'd at least have a genuine answer.

Janey was already in the Great Hall when Sam arrived for the feast that evening, sat with the rest of their friends. She looked up briefly as he approached the Gryffindor table, but upon noticing that it was him, dropped her gaze and began furiously spooning at her soup. Tomato, he noticed. Almost as red as her now flushed cheeks.

Fortunately, there was an empty space next to her. Sam settled himself down next to her with a slight air of triumphant smugness.

"Hi, guys," he said, overly cheerful. Rose, Taylor, Gwen, Albus, and Mason all regarded him with confused looks in response.

"Hi… Sam," Rose said slowly. She, along with the others, unsubtly looked towards Janey, as though trying to read her reaction. Sam never would have so willingly and cheerfully sat beside Janey pre-snogging.

"Hi, Janey," he said, very loudly, very pointedly. Even people they weren't sat with, just other Gryffindor students, were looking up to see what all the commotion was about.

 _Perfect_ , Sam thought wickedly. It was public, it was embarrassing; she would almost certainly snap. At this point he didn't even care. He wanted to provoke her. He almost wanted her to get angry and yell at him. He just wanted to be able to evoke _any_ kind of passion within her; she had been so cold, so closed-off with him recently.

Janey just scowled into her soup, knowing all eyes were trained on her. She lived for gossip, but not when she was at the heart of it. Everybody would be paying fierce attention to her interaction with the boy she was refusing to acknowledge she had any feelings for. She did not reply. She did not even look at him.

Sam continued to grin like an idiot.

He had very purposefully positioned himself so he was sat incredibly close to her. He wouldn't ever have dared sit so close to her before the Rosewood situation, nor would he have ever sat that close to _anyone._

Oh no, you didn't invade someone's personal space in the way he so blatantly was unless there was a definite shared sense of intimacy between the two. Of which, because of Janey's stubbornness, there was not.

Their knees were touching. Even though she had squeezed hers together to distance herself from him, Sam had leisurely splayed his legs to ensure his and hers were touching. He was reminded of the closeness there'd physically been between them after their snog in the window alcove.

Their thighs too, were just about connected. Again, even though it was just their legs, it felt incredibly intimate. Janey's blatant disgust at the invasion of her privacy spurred Sam on. Would she take the bait though? Would she tell him to get away from her?

She shifted her body very purposefully, creating a small but noticeable inch of distance between them, their bodies no longer connected in any way.

Sam scooted closer to her once more.

Janey moved again.

As did Sam.

Janey was now so tightly boxed in between Sam and Taylor that she probably couldn't have physically moved again. Not unless she'd wanted to end up on Taylor's lap. And though she was clearly seething, Janey did nothing to chastise Sam, refusing to give in. Nor did she move away any further. She did, however, cross her legs.

Sam angled his body to more of a diagonal slant, his leg running right down the side of hers. She did not acknowledge him, but continued stirring her soup like it was a potion.

Sam wanted to push her further, to invade her personal space even more. She _had_ to respond. Even if that was to punch him or call him an insatiable pervert, he just wanted a _response._ It didn't have to be a good one. In fact, at this point, he kind of wanted her to explode.

But leg-wise, he wasn't sure what else he could do. Playing footsie with her, or running his foot up her leg or something, well, that _did_ seem like an insatiably perverted thing to do. He wouldn't even have done that with a girl he was in a proper relationship with.

He considered, briefly, putting a hand on her leg. Wasn't that something couples did? A sort of protective, loving grip on a thigh?

But that would be pushing it, he knew. And not on her part – on _his._ Legs touching each other was one thing, but to actually put his hand on her _thigh_. It seemed too intimate for the stage they were in. It had too many… connotations.

Connotations he did not wish to imply to her, and especially not with all their friends (and a whole load of near-strangers) possibly being able to see such an interaction.

Still trying to touch her in every friendly, _non-perverted_ way possible, Sam deliberately selected food that was on the other side of Janey, so he had no choice but to stretch out in front of her, invading her boundaries once more, practically falling into her lap at one point. All with a very idiotically and seemingly unknowing grin plastered on his face.

Their friends watched with confused, unnerved expressions, trying to figure out exactly what the hell he was doing.

"Anybody want juice?" Sam asked cheerily, once again reaching across Janey to grab a pitcher of pumpkin juice. She pursed her lips but still remained silent.

"Err, no," Gwen said slowly, on behalf of them all. "We've all got some…"

Nobody had even touched their meals since Sam's exuberant arrival, all of them transfixed in confusion as they watched his over-exaggerated behaviour. He poured himself a goblet, acting none the wiser.

"Your goblet is empty, Janey," Sam stated, indicating to Janey's indeed empty goblet. "Would you like me to pour you some juice?"

She glared at him in response, her eyes fierce and glowering. Sam felt a rush of triumph; it was a warning. She was warning him not push it anymore. But oh, how he was. He was going to make her snap. And he knew he was getting closer.

Although she glared, Janey made no verbal response, so Sam took it upon himself to fill her goblet anyway. He knew she wouldn't thank him, and he knew she wouldn't drink it. God, it felt satisfying.

"So, Rose," Sam said, having placed the pitcher back down. Everybody had slowly gotten over the shock and began re-eating their meals, though not without plenty of trepidation and confusion at Sam's continued cheerfulness. "How's Scorpius?"

Rose immediately dropped her gaze, cheeks blushing. "I don't know," she mumbled. Everybody subtly looked at her with uncontained interest. After all, everybody was as eager to know what was going on vis-à-vis Rose and Scorpius too.

"Ah," Sam went on, "I just thought, you know, you might have seen him more since we got back. You got pretty close at Rosewood…"

Rose just looked at him incredulously, with an expression that seemed to read 'what the hell are you doing?'

"Well, I mean –"

"Lots of things went down in Rosewood," Sam went on ominously. Everybody was trying really hard not to look at Janey. "Lots of people got… closer."

Sam's gaze flickered very pointedly to Janey once more. Still, even though he could see the effect his taunting was having on her, she did not bite back. Her soup seemed to have become the most fascinating thing in the world to her.

"Any news from James and Ebony?" Sam piped up.

Rose shook her head, still in a daze from how direct he'd been to her about Scorpius. "No," she said simply, no elaboration.

"I think it's nice," Sam went on, "that they're getting married, you know? Bit of a shock," he admitted. "Maybe a bit _too_ hasty. But it's really nice that they're so open with each other. It's nice that they've established _exactly_ where they are in their relationship – they both know exactly what they want."

Janey's spoon clattered from her hand into her bowl of tomato soup, the contents splashing over the side.

"Do you want me to mop that up?" Sam offered.

" _No,_ " Janey said fiercely, before she could stop herself. Eyes wide, face still red, she cleared her throat, embarrassed by her brief lapse. "No, it's fine," she said more politely. "I was done anyway." She pushed the bowl away to emphasise her point.

Sam's stomach seemed to be doing somersaults. She had talked to him; she had addressed him directly!

Janey reached for her goblet, paused, seemed to remember that Sam had poured her the drink, and then rested her hand on the table, as though pretending she had intended to do that all along.

Janey's hands were small, Sam noticed. It wasn't surprising; _she_ was small, after all. He wondered what it would be like to hold it in his own. Not in that situation – not when he was trying to taunt her – but just in general. What would it feel like to hold her hand and to stroll around the edge of the Black Lake? Something soft, and gentle, and romantic.

Sam reached out his hand to place atop hers without really thinking it through. Despite the blush in her cheeks, Janey's skin was icy at his touch.

Not that he got to touch it for long.

"What the _hell_ is your problem?" Janey finally roared, slapping his hand away and actually rising from her seat.

Sam was so shocked that she'd actually responded that he realised he hadn't thought through what he'd do or say when she finally _did_ snap. He'd been so intent on provoking her, he hadn't thought of the next stage. All his cockiness and confidence drained in an instant.

He was _scared_. He half thought she might slap him, or upend her lovingly-poured pumpkin juice on his head, or something equally as demoralising and embarrassing.

"I – err –" Sam stuttered, his face now as red as hers had been. Why, _why_ , had he thought this was a good idea? Why had he honestly thought he'd benefit from riling Janey up? And so publically too?

Janey didn't wait for an answer; she was storming away from him before he could even offer the most pitiful of excuses.

Sam's terrified face looked back to the rest of their friends. They all looked as shocked as he had. But not at Janey's reaction – at his blatant attempt to hold her hand. Was he stupid?

Sam broke back out into a huge, puppy-like grin. "Gotta go, guys," he said excitedly, before rising from the table too, and hurrying to catch up to Janey. He didn't even care that the whole school was watching him chase after her.

Janey was swift, but her legs were a lot shorter than his. Sam caught up to her in no time, just as she'd departed the Great hall and entered the cold and empty corridor. She was fuming as she walked away, a determined and purposeful stride.

"Oh, so _now_ you'll actually react to me," Sam yelled at her spitefully.

Janey came to a halt, spinning on her heel to glare at him. "What the _hell_ is your problem?" she yelled at him again. "Just leave me alone, Sam!"

"You've been ignoring me for days!" he pointed out to her.

"I don't know _what_ you want from me," she hissed, "but all this stupid touchy-feely, pouring my juice, holding my hand crap – that's got to _stop."_

"Why?" he asked boldly.

"Because it's weird!" she insisted shrilly. "I don't _like_ you touching me, or sitting so close to me or –"

"You didn't mind me touching you in Rosewood," he said spitefully. "In fact, as I seem to recall, you rather enjoyed it."

Janey just spluttered, unable to deny it. "That was different!" she eventually shrieked.

"Why?" he demanded again. "Why was it different in Rosewood? Why were you _well up_ for snogging, and touching, and actually admitting you felt something deeper for me, and then as soon as we're back home you can't even _look_ at me?"

"I don't have to tell you that," she said through gritted teeth.

"You damn well do!" Sam protested. "You can't _use_ me like this, Janey – you owe me an explanation!"

"Use you?" she repeated. " _Use_ you!?"

"You can't just – just – kiss me," he spluttered, struggling to explain, "and then ignore me for two days and act like nothing's happened. You have to tell me _why._ I deserve some clarity from you – I deserve an explanation! You can't just avoid me all the time. You have to actually talk to me."

"NO!" she screamed at him, all the pent-up anger from the past forty-eight hours suddenly bursting from her. "I don't – want – to talk," she struggled to say, her frustration taking hold. "Okay? I don't _do_ talking."

"You're telling me," Sam scoffed.

"You're an _arse_ ," Janey suddenly yelled at him. "You know that? You're a real _arse_ , Sam."

"An arse who _you_ made out with three times!" he retaliated triumphantly. "An arse who – and you admitted this yourself – you are attracted to, and who you were _jealous_ of when –"

"Don't you _dare_ say her name," Janey said in a dangerous voice. "And don't pretend like it was one-sided. Don't pretend that I just threw myself at you –"

"You _did._ "

"– and that you didn't also admit that you were attracted to _me_ , and that you'd been jealous when –"

"Don't say his name," Sam growled, just as she had done.

"What do you want from me, Sam?" she demanded.

"I want you to talk to me!" he replied in disbelief. Hadn't that been made clear? "I want to know where you stand so I can figure out where _we_ stand. And I don't understand how I'm supposed to bloody do that when you put all your energy into ignoring me!"

"I don't _know_ where I stand, alright?" Janey said impatiently. "I need some time to think about it – I need some distance. What I _don't_ need is you sitting on my lap –"

"I didn't sit on your lap," Sam mumbled.

"– or trying to make me uncomfortable in front of our friends, or holding my hand, or acting like an idiot!"

"I just don't understand why you need the time though," he said in a pleading voice. "Why can't we talk about this now? I mean, we admitted a lot of stuff with the Veritaserum; we've already crossed that line."

"You are just… _too_ much for me," Janey growled. "Alright? You are _unbearable_ to be around; you are draining!"

"Yes," Sam said coolly, "because _you're_ such a pleasant ray of sunshine."

"Then why do you even care so much?" she demanded. "If I'm so bloody unbearable then _why_ are you being so persistent? Just get over me – move on!"

"I'm not the one who used the word 'unbearable,'" he pointed out. "It's just that you're… _frustrating._ You're so back and forth, and you're so bloody stubborn – you deliberately overcomplicate things. This could be easy, you know. For literally _everybody else_ , this would be easy! Why can't you just admit how you're feeling? You either want me in your life or you don't."

"Because that's who I am," Janey hissed, her hysteria making her look delusional. "I'm a bloody _nightmare_ , alright? And you're just going to have to get used to that. You're going to have to ask yourself if it's worth it, and ask yourself why you even care so much."

"I _care_ ," Sam started to say, "because –"

"I'm _not_ interested," Janey dismissed. And then, to further his frustration, she turned on her heel and began to continue on her way down the corridor.

Sam chased after her again, ready to explode. "This is _exactly_ what I mean!" he yelled. "You won't let me in; you won't let _anybody_ in."

"Go away, Sam," she growled, refusing to stop.

He continued to follow her. "No, that's not good enough!"

"Well, get used to things not being good enough when it comes to me," Janey retaliated snidely. "Save yourself the disappointment."

"The only thing I find disappointing is your _attitude_ ," Sam struck back. "Because it's not necessary, and you know it isn't. You're not being difficult because you have to be, you're being difficult because you want to be. It's not necessary; it's just _cruel._ "

"Get used to it," Janey said drily. "If you want to get hurt then stop pushing me."

"Is that a threat?"

" _No,_ " Janey yelled, finally stopping and turning to look at him again. There was a fiercely burning fire in her eyes – the exact kind of passion Sam had set out to evoke in her. "I am _not_ a pleasant person," she hissed. "Alright? I'm not Rose. I'm not all sunshine and flowers and stupid, sickening _romance_ , and if that's what you're expecting – if that's what you're looking for – then you _are_ going to be disappointed, and you _are_ going to get hurt."

"That's _not_ what I'm after," he said weakly. "I wasn't suggesting that –"

"We are different people, Sam. Very different people. And if you can't accept that – if you can't _handle_ me being the way I am –"

"I just want you to talk to me," he interrupted. "I just want you to be honest with me."

"I am!"

"No," he growled, "you're _not._ You are purposefully trying to push me away, purposefully being self-destructive, all the while skirting around the actual issue at hand here. Once again, you are _overcomplicating_ things. Don't think I don't know what you're doing."

"If you're so bloody clever and all-knowing then why do you even need to ask?" Janey challenged. "If you already know _everything_ –"

"That's not what I said! You _know_ that's not what I said."

"Oh, so _I'm_ the all-knowing one now, am I?" Janey asked sarcastically.

Sam threw his arms up into air as a gesture of defeat. "Oh my _God_ ," he declared, you are impossible!"

"Yeah?"

"Yes!"

"Well, oh _my_ God, you are so irritating!"

"Don't –"

"You _are_ ," she went on. "You come in here, all high and mighty, acting like you actually care what I have to say, but you don't even know what _you_ want."

"Yeah?"

"Yes!"

Sam lunged, not even of his own accord, his body driving his towards hers. Even though he was nearly a whole foot taller than her, his hands went straight to her hair, his mouth straight on hers, like magnets had pulled them together perfectly.

Janey did not protest. She didn't push him away or make any exclamations of shock, surprise, or even offence at his abrupt and aggressive assault on her mouth. She responded like she'd almost expected it; or maybe she was just that skilled, Sam thought.

Fighting the urge to kiss Janey at the height of passion was like trying to fight gravity as you fell off your broom. It was impossible, involuntary. He was starting to question how he had refrained, in all those previous heated arguments, from doing exactly what he was doing now – channelling that passion, that fierce, wild ache she enforced in him, into running his fingers through her hair and violently crashing his lips against hers.

 _Oh God,_ it was like morphine. He hadn't fully realised, in those two days of abstinence, how much he had been longing to kiss her again. How familiar, and sweet, and blissful it felt to have her mouth against his, and to feel the heat of her skin burn against him.

Unlike the first three kisses, this was different. Not only their physical position – twice now she'd been hoisted up into his arms, and once they'd been sat in the alcove, whereas now they were both stood firmly on the ground, bringing further dynamics into the mix such as the height difference – but because Sam was leading.

Twice Janey had initiated it, and the middle time, even though they'd both succumbed at the same time, Janey had still very much taken the lead. But this time Sam had gone for it. It had been he who'd closed the gap, who'd forced himself upon her, and seemed to be putting the most energy in. He hadn't predicted how she'd respond. He hadn't had time; it had just kind of _happened._

But now that it _was_ happening, he was surprised. Half of him had expected her to push him away in disgust and storm away from him again. But since she hadn't done that, he'd half expected her to take over.

Janey's mouth followed his own though; she matched _his_ rhythm rather than trying to enforce her own – _his_ lip movements. If he opened his mouth more, she followed suit. If he lingered for longer, she didn't fight it. If he sped up, she matched his pace, and if he slowed down, deepening the kiss, she savoured it too.

Did that mean she wasn't enjoying it, Sam internally panicked. If she wasn't contributing anything to the kiss, if she was just following his movements, did that mean she was just sort of… going along with it? Just tolerating it, waiting for him to have his way and for it to be over?

Or maybe, like him, she was experimenting. She was seeing what _he_ had to offer. She was allowing herself to enjoy and savour the kiss rather than focus on orchestrating and controlling it.

Sam was starting to feel well out of his depth. He didn't know what he was doing at all; he couldn't even tell if Janey was enjoying it. Was he supposed to be doing more? More with his hands? More with his mouth?

His hands were still in her hair, gently caressing her scalp in a movement that probably didn't feel too exhilarating or interesting. He felt like he was giving her a massage or something. But Sam was terrified to put them anywhere else. Even venturing below her neck seemed like dangerous territory. He and Isabella had never done _hands-y_ kissing. They'd never groped or fondled; they'd only ever just used their mouths.

But there were so many possibilities when it came to Janey. Her back, her arms, her hands, her waist, her hips, her _bum,_ her…?

No, even the thought of touching her in _some_ places terrified him so much he couldn't even consider the notion.

Hair, he decided. Hair was safe. Hair was enough for now.

Janey herself – the only aspect of the kiss she'd initiated herself – had put her hands on his hips. It worked well, considering the height. And it wasn't a clawing, squeezing kind of grip, like she'd started to initiate during their snog in the alcove, but more just a place to rest them rather than have them hang down awkwardly by her sides. Their bodies weren't even touching. It wasn't like she was pulling his hips against her, grinding and – _Oh, God,_ _he needed to stop envisioning that immediately._

Sam desperately forced his mind back to their conjoined mouths, urgently trying not to think of his hips, or hers, or her body, or _grinding_ , or anything else of the sort.

He kept his hands firmly in her hair; no wandering her body just yet. But then what else to do with his mouth?

He was starting to get the hang of fluctuating between different pressures and speeds (and even sort his breathing control), Janey still obligingly following his lead, but it all still felt rather conformed. What else could he do? Tilt his mouth at a different angle? Gently bite her lip? Or even, God forbid, put his tongue in her mouth?

Or maybe he needed to move away from her mouth – kiss her in a different place. Earlobes were sometimes popular, he was sure, but that didn't really seem too appealing. Neck, he thought next, and collarbones. That was definitely something people did – he'd seen enough love bites around Hogwarts to know that…

But Sam wouldn't even know the first thing to go about doing that. Knowing his lack of experience he'd probably just end up biting her. Or maybe that was something you were supposed to do? Maybe that was something some people found pleasurable?

Best not try, he decided, just in case it didn't go down too well. And anyway, the thought of breaking his lips away from hers and putting them _elsewhere_ kind of terrified him too. If he didn't even have the confidence to put his hands on her body, how could he work up the nerve to put his _mouth_ on it instead?

Now feeling disheartened by his lack of skill, and his fear to even try and experiment a little bit more, Sam broke the kiss, dropping his hands immediately. He didn't linger, nor did Janey put up a fight for him to, dropping her hands from his hips too.

They stood staring at each other, a foot apart in distance, chests both rising and falling. Sam's more noticeably; Janey had clearly built up enough stamina to handle what was, to her, probably mediocre kissing.

She didn't look angry or worked-up anymore – there was no indication that she was mad at him for having done what he did, nor any of the previous resentment in which she'd riled herself up. She just looked a bit vague, Sam thought sadly. Confused, lost… empty.

Had it really been that disappointing? Or was it something else?

What was going on her mind? Sam longed to know. But to ask would only rile her up again, and he didn't think he could go through any more of that.

Sam racked his brains for something to say. Should he apologise? For yelling at her? For deliberately provoking her back in the Great Hall? For kissing her just then?

Janey just looked at him, her eyes now almost pained, like she was battling some kind of storm internally. She said nothing; she just turned on her heel and walked away from him, calmer than before.

Sam lurched after her. "Janey," he said in a pleading voice, reaching out to grab her shoulder.

She reacted so quickly, and so forcibly, that Sam didn't really have time to process what was happening. Within seconds of his hand grasping her shoulder, she was whipping around, using all her body weight to advance on him and back him up against the cold stone wall of the corridor.

Sam expected violence. He expected, given the fierce look on her face, and the strength with which she'd manoeuvred him, for Janey to slap him, or punch him, or even pull her wand on him and hex him for harassing her so much. But rather than doing any of those things, taking Sam by deep surprise, she kissed him.

They'd only _not_ been kissing for about thirty seconds, but oh, God, to feel her mouth back on his, hot and wet, felt like rain after a ten-year drought.

Janey was not being submissive this time; she was not being polite and reserved, and letting Sam take the lead. She was fierce, and passionate, and _hungry._

Sam didn't know why. He didn't know why this animalistic energy had suddenly overcome her, and why she hadn't exerted that during their gentle (in comparison) snog just moments before. It wasn't like anything had changed in the transition between the snogging _then_ and the snogging _now._ He hadn't said anything to her; he hadn't done anything.

Had it been a test, he considered. Perhaps her submission in the kiss he'd initiated had been because she wanted to see what he had to offer. And now that he'd done so (and very disappointingly given what she was clearly capable of), she wanted to _really_ kiss.

Or maybe it was a competition. Maybe this was her way of asserting her dominance – she was mocking him for his pitiful skills, showing him how inadequate he was in comparison to her.

Or maybe, and Sam could barely process the thought, she had just been _so_ overcome with passion, so overcome with desire for _him_ , that she'd lost her control as easily as he'd done, and felt there to be no other alternative than to push him up against a wall and kiss him with all she had.

That was laughable though. That _she_ had been so desire-driven by _him_ – that was truly laughable.

Sam did not laugh though. And he did not complain. Whatever Janey's reasoning was for her sudden burst of passion, he wasn't fool enough to even think about questioning.

She was aggressive, _hungry_ , in her kiss. All those time before she had certainly been passionate, but not in such a violent way as she was then. It was like she didn't care about pain, or civility, or experimentation, she just wanted to put everything she had into kissing him, not caring for the consequences.

Again, their physical position was different to anything they'd previously explored together. With Sam being pushed up against a wall, it provided an even more exciting dynamic. He was trapped, vulnerable, whilst Janey was dominant, trapping him in. And yet he liked it. A _lot._

Despite the throbbing at the back of his head from where she'd unintentionally slammed it into the wall, or the coldness of the exposed stone that seemed to be seeping through his shirt, or the way the brickwork was digging into his shoulder, Sam felt no pain, and no discomfort. He felt only blinding, dizzying ecstasy.

Janey, much to Sam's thrilling delight, was not anywhere as reserved as he'd been with his body. Her hands, for one, were happy to roam. Well, her right hand anyway. Her left was secured on one side of his face, half clawing at his hair, half just holding his face still so she could happily work her mouth against his. Her right hand, however, was pressed up against his chest, though constantly on the move.

One moment at the back of his neck, one moment running down his chest, stopping only to grip him and pull him closer. It even fleetingly (though he desperately tried not to think about it too much) brushed over his nipple as she ran it down his chest.

His own hands he'd decided to put on her waist. It had felt natural and comfortable given the positon of her arms. And it felt safe. Any lower or any higher and he would have panicked, painfully aware that he'd found a safe area between two very obvious erogenous zones. Hips or ribcage might have been pushing it a bit for his own comfort. And any lower or higher than _that_ … well, he didn't yet have the confidence.

But her waist felt good. He was surprised by how small and supple it felt beneath his hands. Perhaps she was smaller than he'd realised, or perhaps his hands were bigger. But it felt nice.

Not as nice though, Sam thought with great pleasure, as the way her entire body was now pressed up against his. Though he'd been courteous with his kiss, keeping a firm distance between their bodies, only connected by hands and mouths, Janey was not extending that courtesy to her kiss.

With his back pressed up against the wall, Janey's body was pressed up against him, sandwiching him against it. Oh God, if he'd thought it had been nice with just their knees touching, _this_ was something else altogether. Chest to chest, he could feel _everything_.

And it didn't stop there. _Oh, no._

Janey's hips were moving, a gentle rocking fashion, rubbing up against his thigh in sync with every moment of her mouth against his. So graceful, so coordinated.

And very, _very_ pleasurable.

It was one of those moments where Sam was incredibly grateful for their drastic height difference. Thank God it was only his mid-thigh her hips were rubbing against. Had she been about ten inches taller, with her hips aligning with, well… Perhaps it was just as well. Sam was not sure he had the self-control to hold out.

It was clear that neither showed any signs of stopping. Not with as much passion as both were displaying, not with the driving hunger they apparently had for each other's mouths and bodies.

It was just as well that Professor Cepheus Roberts stumbled upon the scene.

As Janey hurriedly removed herself from being anywhere near Sam in a way that may have been deemed unacceptable in a teacher's company, brushing herself down, and blushing furiously, Sam just leaned back against the wall, exhausted and dazed. There was no use in trying to hide what they'd been doing.

"Sam," Professor Roberts greeted, torn between amusement, curiosity, and shock. "Janey," he further greeted, offering a polite nod. "A good evening to you both…"

"We, were, uh –" Sam began to say, now starting to realise how embarrassing it all was.

Janey glared at him, silencing him.

"– going back to the Gryffindor Tower," Sam finished anyway, sheepishly and unconvincingly.

"I see," Professor Roberts said kindly, though he was struggling to suppress a sly, knowing smirk. "Perhaps for the best. It might not be deemed _proper_ , as such, for some of the younger students to catch their well-respected Prefects –"

Sam gulped.

"– out after curfew."

"It's nowhere near curfew," Janey pointed out furiously, completely missing the point.

"No," Professor Roberts laughed, "but even so. Dallying around in corridors at even this hour in the evening might not go down too well with the Headmistress."

"You're, ah, not going to _tell_ Professor Bobbin, are you?" Sam asked worriedly.

"You would like me to lie to my fiancée?" Roberts teased.

"Yes," Janey said.

"Not _lie_ ," Sam said quickly. "Just not, perhaps… mention."

"We'll see," Roberts said kindly, that gentle smirk still hinting. "It all depends if this... corridor loitering," he said delicately, "is going to become a more frequent occurrence."

"God, I hope so," Sam murmured before he could stop himself.

Janey elbowed him in the ribs. "Believe me, Professor, this is the first time it's happened," she told him sweetly.

"It's not," Sam protested, looking offended. "We've loitered lots of times now!"

"Not at Hogwarts, idiot," Janey snarled.

"No, but in Rosewood, we certainly did a lot of loitering too."

"Yes," Professor Roberts said distastefully, "believe me, we _know_. We all saw it…"

Janey and Sam were back to furiously blushing again.

"Well, where are we supposed to loiter?" Janey demanded of her professor. "Nobody was here; nobody could see us!"

" _I_ saw you," Professor Roberts pointed out.

"Yeah, well –"

"Janey," he said warningly, "I'm not telling you off, I'm just warning you to be careful. To have a bit more discretion."

"But, well," Sam mumbled, "it's not like _other_ students don't loiter. Why, just because we're Prefects, can't we?"

"I'm not saying you _can't_ loiter," Roberts explained. "Merlin knows you're at that age where you'll want to be loitering, and there's absolutely nothing wrong with it. It's just, perhaps, you might want to be careful about _how_ , exactly, you loiter. Because from what _I_ saw –"

Sam and Janey both hung their heads in shame.

"– yours was _not_ the kind of loitering that's strictly appropriate, given where you are, _who_ you are, and who might have seen you."

"We, ah, we won't loiter like that again, Professor Roberts," Sam mumbled in apology. "Not in this corridor anyway…"

Janey sniggered by his side.

Professor Roberts raised an eyebrow.

"Sorry," Sam mumbled again.

"Look," Roberts sighed, quickly glancing to check there was nobody around, "not that I'm condoning this type of behaviour, but the broom cupboards on the fifth floor are favourite spots for students to _loiter._ "

"Err…"

"As is behind the changing room block by the Quidditch pitch."

"Okay…?"

"And behind that one shelf of books _right_ at the back of the library."

"Right, well –"

"Oh, and sometimes the Owlery – but that's a bit more risky."

"Um…"

"And the Room of Requirement, of course. I mean, that's probably the best, after all."

"Professor –"

"All I'm saying is, there are _plenty_ of places for you to loiter," Roberts finished seriously, "and none of them include out here in the open, in the corridor right outside the Great Hall. I'm pretty sure that's the _worst_ place to loiter."

"Professor Roberts –"

"Don't let me catch you again," he called over his shoulder, walking away from the red-faced couple.

Sam and Janey said nothing for a while, just watching Professor Roberts' retreating figure, until he was well out of earshot and had rounded the corner at the end of the corridor. At which point they both dissolved into snorts of laughter.

Sam was dumfounded. "Did… Did Professor Roberts just give us recommendations for where to…?"

" _Loiter_ ," Janey snorted.

They were laughing so much that Sam had forgotten the context in which they'd even _been_ out in the corridor. All that arguing and yelling that had preceded such furious 'loitering.' He and Janey were laughing, they were at ease; the atmosphere was now light and playful. It felt so refreshing in comparison.

Falling in step together, they began walking down the corridor, headed towards the Gryffindor Tower.

"I bet he and Bobbin have done their fair share of loitering, themselves," Janey piped up wickedly. "In fact, I don't even think these are place where Roberts had supposedly caught students; I bet they're just his favourite haunts to take our Headmistress for a good snog."

"Nah," Sam dismissed gleefully, "they've both got offices; there'd be no need for them to sneak around."

"I don't know," Janey mused, "might be a way to spice things up a bit. He did seem awfully keen on the Room of Requirement."

It was then that Sam noticed that he and Janey were holding hands. He wasn't sure how it had happened – whether he'd taken hers, or she'd taken his, or they'd both just kind of taken each other's subconsciously – but it made his heart flutter when he noticed.

He wondered if Janey was aware, or whether she was so engrossed in thoughts of Bobbin and Roberts sneaking around like randy teenagers that she hadn't fully realised yet. Once she realised would she drop it in horror?

Sam decided to put it to the test. He gave a gentle squeeze, just enough pressure to draw her attention to it.

She did so with slight confusion. It was with mild surprise that Janey's gaze flickered downwards towards where her hand was indeed clasped with that of Sam's. But she didn't freak out. She didn't drop it or break away, or yell at him, or show any distaste at the interaction.

Though surprised, she looked quite pleased. She smiled up at Sam shyly, only briefly before looking away in embarrassment.

But their hands remained clasped.

They remained clasped all the way back to the Gryffindor Tower.

* * *

 _ **Author's Note:** Italicised lyrics and title inspiration from Neon Trees' 'Everybody Talks'_


	4. Hold Me In Your Arms

_**Author's Note:** Sorry for the delay!_

* * *

 **Chapter 4 – Hold Me In Your Arms**

* * *

 _Though I'm a little scared  
_ _That all the times we shared  
_ _Almost too perfect to ever last_

 _And when I'm lying here  
_ _And you are holding me_

 _I know the fear in me will pass_

* * *

The Gryffindor Common Room was empty as Sam and Janey returned, with everybody surely still at the feast. The lights were low, the fire was burning; it was all deeply romantic.

Janey dropped Sam's hand like it was a dead fish.

He cleared his throat awkwardly. It was too early to be going to bed, so they couldn't just hastily retreat to their dorm rooms. Well, not without the other knowing it was only to avoid them. But what were they supposed to do, alone in the common room?

Talk, was the obvious answer. But Sam and Janey had never been alone just to 'talk.' They'd never exchanged pleasantries, or engaged in friendly, casual banter. They were either in a group or yelling at each other. But Sam also knew it would be hopeless to try and coax her into having that heart-to-heart she was so furiously avoiding.

"The fire," Sam began awkwardly, both of them still just stood by the portrait hole, gazing into the empty room, desperately trying to think of something to say. "It, ah, it kind of makes me miss Rosewood."

"You actually _miss_ Rosewood?" Janey scoffed. It had been far from the luxury Janey was accustomed too. Grimy and murky, and full of darkness.

"Well, no, not the place," Sam said, "but, like, the experience, I guess."

Janey cocked her head inquisitively. "Which aspect, exactly?" she asked sarcastically. "The part where some wild outlaw held a dagger to your throat and threatened to kill you? The part where one of our closest friends was nearly assassinated? The part where we had to literally fight for our lives? Or maybe even the part where –"

"That's not what I meant at all," Sam said irritably. His hand subconsciously moved to the base of his throat where the dagger had been poised. "I meant" – he glanced down at Janey by his side, looking sheepish – "us as a group. It was nice… If you take out all the dangerous aspects, of course. It was nice to just all be together, out in the woods, round a campfire…"

"I hate camping," Janey said distastefully. "Never again."

Sam rolled his eyes. She seemed to be doing all she could to shut this conversation down. "So you've been camping before?" he prompted.

"No."

"Really? Not like with your family or anything?"

Janey stared hard into the fire at the mention of her family. "No. Never."

"Oh. So, err, so what's it like then… in the Davington family?"

"Sam, stop it, I know what you're doing," Janey snapped, turning to glare at him.

"What?" he asked defensively. "I'm just trying to make conversation."

"No," she said firmly, "you're trying to pry. You're digging for anything a little deeper about me."

"I'm just trying to get to know you," Sam insisted, feeling irritated at her stubborn refusal. It wasn't like he was asking for much.

"Yeah, well, knock it off."

"Janey –"

"Sam," she interrupted with a sigh, "can we not do this now? Please?"

"What?" he demanded. "Talk?"

"Argue," she replied.

Well, he wasn't going to fight her on that. "Alright, fine, I'm sorry," he mumbled.

"I'm too tired to do this now."

 _You weren't too tired to do it earlier_ , Sam thought spitefully. Oh, no, she'd had a grand old time yelling at him in the corridor. Although, to be fair, it might have been his fault…

"I'm pretty tired too," he sighed, finally walking fully into the room. He went over to one of the armchairs by the fireplace, surprised that Janey followed his lead.

Sam settled himself down into the chair, wondering if she was going to join him in the adjacent one. But then what? She didn't want to talk; were they just going to sit there in silence together?

But Janey hesitated in front of him. She didn't take the chair by Sam's side, but remained standing, peering at him with wide, curious eyes, shyly biting her lip.

"Do you want to… sit down?" Sam suggested, confused that she didn't seem to have taken that initiative by herself. Honestly, what was she waiting for?

"I, err, I just… can I sit with you?" she asked shyly. The way she peered at him through her fringe made her look like a child, as though afraid of asking for something she knew she couldn't have.

"Well, yeah, that's what I –" But Sam had to stop abruptly, as it hit him what she'd meant by her request. Janey didn't mean sit with him as in sit in the chair _next_ to him. She meant sit in the chair _with_ him. As in… _on_ him.

Sam found his face suddenly hot, and it had nothing to do with the burning fire. It was an intimate request, an affectionate one. She wanted to sit cuddled up with him by the fire. It was a _romantic_ one.

The armchair was big, more than enough for two people to sit comfortably, but not so spacious that they wouldn't have to be pretty huddled up together. Janey was small, but not so small that she could fit on the seat beside Sam. She would definitely, or at least part of her, would have to be _on_ him. She would be sat pretty much on his lap. He'd probably have to put an arm around her to support her.

Sam gulped.

It was crazy to think that no more than ten minutes ago she'd had him pressed up against a wall, forcefully driving her body against him, and yet he was nervous about _this._

"Yeah, of course," he gulped, trying to mask his anxiousness.

But Janey looked just as nervous as she approached him.

Sam desperately racked his brains, trying to figure out why she'd wanted to initiate such an intimate situation. It wasn't that he wasn't more than up for it; it just seemed odd, coming from Janey. An hour ago she'd been doing all she could to ignore him. Half an hour ago she'd been furiously making out with him. But out of fury, out of _passion._

This would be something else altogether. There would be a closeness, not just physically, but emotionally. This was the kind of soppy thing couples did.

It was the kind of thing Sam had always dreamed of doing with someone he cared for, but the kind of thing Janey had made perfectly clear she _wasn't_ interested in. So what had changed?

Both of them too scared to say anything, but making nervous eye contact with each other, Janey tentatively began to clamber into the chair with him. Sam was frozen with anxiety, unsure whether he should be helping her onto him, or else repositioning his body to make her comfortable.

Janey's knee was dangerously close to his groin at one point. Sam just gulped.

After a bit of shuffling and repositioning from them both, they were settled. Janey was lighter than he'd thought. Not that he'd expected her to be heavy, of course, but he didn't feel uncomfortable with her on his lap. It felt nice.

She was sat with little of her body weight actually on him, perched mostly on his thigh, with her back up against the arm. One leg was curled up under her, the other stretched out across Sam's legs. Sam wasn't sure what to do with his arms. One was just resting on his other thigh, whilst the other was placed on the part of the chair arm Janey's body wasn't touching.

Should he move it so that it was around her though? Maybe not tightly – just resting on her back?

He didn't have time to amend anything.

Janey was cupping his face, her delicate fingers gently running over his jawline. Sam's face tingled at her touch. He wasn't even aware that he was holding his breath.

Their eyes, hers a sky blue, his a rich brown, were intensely locked on each other, soulful and longing. Sam wasn't sure he'd be able to look away even if he tried. He was transfixed; she was mesmerising. Even though they weren't yet kissing, there was something so deeply intimate about the way their gazes were held, their heads a breath apart.

Sam could hear her heart even from there. Or maybe that was just his own.

But something hung between them in that moment. They had never lingered before they kissed. Each of those five times (not that Sam was counting…) it had been urgent, and panicked, and rushed, fuelled by an insatiable longing, a desperation to have their mouths pressed together. But in that moment there was a tension between them, both heavy and light, both tender and passionate, both innocent and longing.

A meaningful gaze, a meaningful silence. Never had any words they'd spoken to each other been as meaningful and affectionate as the limbo they seemed to be stuck in right then.

Sam's eyelids flickered shut in preparation, the only sensation he wanted to feel being that of her touch against him. When Janey kissed him it was different, it was gentle. Not like all those times she'd now crushed her mouth against his, hungry and wild.

It wasn't even a kiss at first. She'd placed her lips against his, just delicately brushing the surface, as fragile as a butterfly's wings. For a few seconds she simply let them linger just there, before applying a fraction more pressure, slightly parting his lips with her own.

Sam could do nothing but sit, paralysed by the sensation, his breath shuddering in his throat.

And then Janey did something she'd never done to Sam before, and that he'd never once had done to him. Gently, slowly at first, she put her tongue in his mouth.

Sam was surprised, unprepared for such a motion, and not even entirely sure how to respond to it. But as usual, Janey exerted a sense of graceful expertise. He didn't need to do anything but savour the sensation and follow her lead.

She shifted her body so she was closer to him, no longer allowing the chair to take most of her weight. With her legs entangled with his, her fingers raking gently through his hair, and with her chest pressed up against his once more, Sam found her waist again, trying not to think about how much of her body he could feel pressed against him. Nor how much of _his_ body she could surely feel pressed against her.

But rather than clinically holding her waist once more, a hand placed either side, Sam wrapped his arms fully around Janey, drawing her ever closer as she deepened their once gentle kiss. Her urgency was picking up, not as frantic and wild as they'd been in the corridor, but her lips were rolling against his with a more dynamic rhythm, her tongue, rather excitingly, still darting into his open mouth.

It was then that Sam thought about his own tongue. Although he was very much enjoying the sensation of hers in his mouth, learning how to respond, he was very much aware that his own was just lying inanimately at the base of his mouth, whilst his lips continued to do all the work.

What was he supposed to do with it? Was he supposed to do _anything?_

He'd never kissed a girl with tongues before; he didn't know the routine. Was only one person supposed to have an active tongue? Were they supposed to alternate? Was he supposed to just slip his tongue into her mouth too?

And then what? Circle her mouth? Try and avoid each other? Or was there supposed to be collision?

If he wasn't enjoying it so much he was sure he'd find it all rather disgusting…

Sam decided to pluck up some Gryffindor courage and take a risk. It was just kissing after all, and Janey would know and understand that he maybe wasn't as experienced as her. Well, that he _definitely_ wasn't as experienced as her.

So as tentatively and slowly as she had, he too worked his tongue into her mouth. He felt stupid and uncertain, not really knowing what he was supposed to do, but Janey seemed to notice, so that at least was a good start, and urged him on with her mouth.

Sam had to admit, though he'd very much enjoyed those frantic, hungry snogs, where their senses had taken control and they'd eaten away at each other with starving urgency, he thought this was his favourite kiss with Janey.

 _So far._

Every sense in his body heightened at her touch, tingling, _buzzing_. He felt light and weightless, like they weren't pressed up in an armchair in the deserted Gryffindor Common Room, but were just kind of floating – he and her, she and him, their own bubble, their own world. He liked that they weren't just grabbing at each other in an animalistic way, but that their bodies were fully entwined – their legs plaited through each other, his arms wound around her waist, her hand soothingly caressing his face – connected in a way that felt deeply more intimate than just their mouths. It was like they were not two separate people, but one. One person, one body, one heart.

And even though the kiss was more tame, it was new. It was _exciting._

The subtle smell of the burning fire was intoxicating. Woody and ashy, the aroma enveloped the entwined couple. It seemed appropriate that, as the fire blazed, Sam and Janey too felt something of a fiery sensation burning through them.

Janey smelt nice, Sam thought to himself. He'd been in proximity with her quite a lot recently, that was fair to say, and he was starting to identify what he considered to be _her_ scent. He didn't know what it was – perfume, soap, or maybe just her general, natural aroma – but it was fruity. Sweet, fragrant, citrusy almost.

Maybe it wasn't her at all. Maybe just being near her sent his senses into overdrive, associating pleasant feelings, and in this case smells, with her.

But indeed, in that moment, during that kiss, Sam felt closer to her than he ever had before. Not physically, although that was probably true too – but emotionally. He felt close to her on an almost spiritual, soulful level. They were pouring everything they had into that kiss, both gentle and passionate at the same time, senses exploding with euphoria.

It was gentle, soft, romantic almost – not fierce and driving like before. Whereas previously the kisses had been fuelled by anger – fury with each other condensed into that physical act – this was the opposite. It was all about a gentler type of emotion – one of affection rather than aggression.

Tongue-wise, Sam still wasn't sure he was doing what he was supposed to be doing. He dipped it into her mouth every now and again, not really sure what else to do, and also rather worried that if he got too enthusiastic, and too deep, their teeth would accidentally collide. And that would surely be a bit of a mood-killer.

But Janey didn't seem to mind. In fact, he was pretty sure he could feel her smiling through the kiss. Hopefully out of endearment rather than laughter…

It was then that Sam realised, hopefully, this was just the beginning. There was still so much to learn, so much to explore together. He wanted to be able to memorise every arc of her body, explore every cavity of her mouth, trace every inch of her skin.

And not even just the physical stuff. He wanted to know everything about her – to know her deeply, emotionally. Everything she was hiding from him, everything she'd buried deep inside herself, too scared, too vulnerable to reveal to the world.

He wanted to know her in every way there was to know a person.

Janey withdrew her tongue, mouth, hands, everything.

Sam opened his eyes in surprise, desperately missing her warmth, even after only a second's separation. She was smiling coyly, the edges of her mouth turning up ever so slightly, like she was proud of herself.

He didn't blame her. If he could kiss like that, he'd be pretty proud of himself too.

Sam left his arms wrapped around her, hands gently cradling her back. No longer fixed on either side of his head, fingers raking through his hair, Janey had one hand lovingly resting on the back of his neck, the other simply placed on his chest.

In the way that he'd seen Ebony do to James before. In the way he'd seen Rose do to Scorpius before.

In the way that couples did.

But they weren't a couple, not Sam and Janey. Were they?

No, he thought firmly. They were just two people who happened to snog a lot. They weren't even really _friends_ , per se.

Was that what he wanted though? Was he okay with that? Just being a casual snogging buddy, seemingly no emotional depth? But just then, even though they had indeed been snogging, hadn't it also seemed more emotional? Hadn't he truly felt like it was more than just a snog?

Well, for him maybe. But what about her? Had she felt anything deeper?

Sam didn't have time to dwell on it for too long because Janey kissed him again. Nothing exotic, just a simple brushing of her lips against his, no more than a second. In and out, no lingering, the way a parent would kiss their child.

Again, he looked at her in surprise. That was so unlike Janey. That was the first time they'd ever just kissed.

Not snogging – not tongues, and hands, and bodies – just a simple kiss, in its most simple and purest form. Gentle and affectionate, you didn't kiss someone as simply as that if you didn't deeply care for them. Did you? It wasn't like mindless snogging, driven by craving and lust, just two bodies, two random strangers seeking a bit of action.

So Sam kissed her too. A fleeting peck, her lips soft and warm against his, though only for a few seconds. And he found he enjoyed it even as much as the heavier snogging. It was brief, and it was sweet, and it felt nice.

 _So much nicer than any of those times he'd kissed Isabella._

Janey was laughing gently. Coy and playful, so he joined in too. It was like they were sharing a secret, just he and her. Her hand was still delicately placed on his chest, and her body still felt warm and familiar entangled with his, curled up in that chair by the fire.

Sam kissed her again, but this time brushing only the corner of her mouth. Not quite a cheek kiss – he was still scared to put his lips anywhere on her body (even her face), that wasn't her lips – but just something different.

"You missed," she teased, running her hand up from his chest to the back of his neck. It felt soothing.

"I meant to," he teased back.

Janey planted a kiss on his forehead.

"You missed," Sam said playfully.

"I meant to."

"So, uh," Sam cleared his throat awkwardly, the heat starting to creep up under his collar.

It was in those moments he felt most uncertain. Post-snog, yet they were still in quite an intimate position, their legs and bodies entangled. Did they talk? But then what was he supposed to say? Casual chit-chat? Were they supposed to acknowledge the snogging?

"I guess loitering in the common room is allowed then," he said with a smirk.

"Oh, yeah," Janey agreed. "Just not snogging."

And then she and Sam were laughing again. It felt familiar, even though they'd probably never laughed together pre-Rosewood. Not just them anyway – not laughter that they shared together, private and personal.

And then Janey sighed, somewhat out of contentment and somewhat out of exhaustion. Her body sunk down against Sam until her head was resting against his chest – her arms, legs, and body all curled up – with one of his arms protectively wrapped around her, safe and warm. Sam wondered, with her ear pressed right up against his heart, whether she could hear his heartbeat, whether she could feel it in the way that he could.

They didn't say anything. They didn't need to. They just sat, curled up together, enjoying the warm embrace, the soft crackle of the fire, and the comforting silence of simply _being._

What would people think, Sam wondered, if they were to walk into the room right then? Anybody who didn't know Sam and Janey, upon seeming them in such a cute and endearing embrace, would immediately assume they were romantically involved. Friends didn't hold each other in such a way, not when armchairs and snug little fires were involved.

 _Were_ they romantically involved, Sam wondered. They weren't dating, obviously, but something more than casual was definitely happening. In just that last hour alone they'd snogged three separate times. And with tongues, too!

 _That_ wasn't just innocent flirtation; that was serious.

For all intents and purposes, especially given the situation they were in right at that moment, they were acting like a couple. The only difference being without the actual commitment. Sam had no doubt the sentiment was there, just not the labels. Janey could very well go off the next day and snog some other random Hogwarts student, and he wouldn't be able to do anything about it.

Would she though? Would it hurt him if she did?

But no, Sam thought, that was stupid. He'd be hurt but he wouldn't have any grounds on which to call her out on it. They weren't exclusive, after all. They weren't really… anything.

"Why did you kiss me?" he asked suddenly.

Janey didn't even lift her head to look at him, but he could sense her surprise at his question – he could feel her tense in confusion.

"Why did you kiss _me?"_ she countered. "It seemed to be pretty mutual…"

"No, not now," Sam dismissed, blushing slightly. "I mean… back in Rosewood Manor. When you – after the battle – and you – you saw me and you ran at me and you – you kissed me," he struggled to explain, embarrassed to address it so blatantly.

It had been playing on Sam's mind. After years of bitterness and hostility, daily arguments over the simplest of things, it had all changed in a matter of seconds. Sam knew his own heart, of course. He had struggled with his emotions towards Janey for a while, deeply conflicted. He had known, to some extent, that the passion he felt for her was not strictly of anger, but he'd refused to acknowledge it within his own heart. Whether she felt the same had always been questionable.

But since setting foot in Rosewood it had all changed. Having her imprisoned, and him suddenly fearful of her fate, it had been then that Sam had been forced to more openly address his feelings with regards to the irritable blonde girl who'd riled him for so long. That pain of not being near her, and that fear that something terrible would happen to her, had been all the wakeup call he'd needed.

And yet, even with that epiphany, Sam never would have ran to take her up into his arms and kiss her with all his might upon being reconciled once more. In fact, he likely wouldn't have pursued anything romantic with Janey; he would have stubbornly denied, even to himself, how he truly felt.

He certainly wouldn't have been able to kiss her with such spontaneity and passion as she had.

And that was the point: she had. Janey _had_ kissed him. Unprompted. And Sam was still unsure of her intentions behind it all. But he desperately wanted to know. Had she too, over those few hours of agonising separation, come to realise the same things as he had? Those same feelings forcing themselves through?

He was almost glad they couldn't make eye contact from the position they were in. It was easier to talk about when he couldn't look her in the eye. The weight of her entire body against him felt comfortable though, reassuring, and oddly familiar. He felt like when the time came to untangle themselves and go to their separate beds, he would feel oddly empty without that warmth and that pressure from her body against his.

Sam expected Janey not to answer, or else dismiss the question. But to his surprise, she didn't.

"I'd been thinking a lot," she said in a thoughtful voice. "In the cell. With Jinx."

Sam was ashamed to admit he'd forgotten about Janey's temporary imprisonment during the time they'd returned to Hogwarts – well, up until then – and felt immediately guilty. She was tough as nails, but no one had actually checked she was alright. He was certain she wouldn't have opened up, even if it _had_ been traumatising for her, but he felt like he should have actually asked after her wellbeing at some point amongst all the snogging.

"About what?" he asked gently.

"You," she admitted.

"In a… positive way?" Sam gulped. _That would be a first._

"I was thinking about when we first got to Rosewood. And how Piper had held the dagger against your throat and threatened to slit it."

Sam was surprised, and a little embarrassed by the reminder. "And how you told her to 'kill me' because you 'didn't want me,'" he said sarcastically.

He could almost feel Janey blush. "I told you – I only said that because I thought if she thought you weren't important to us, she'd let you go."

"Or actually just kill me," Sam mumbled.

" _Anyway,_ " Janey swiftly moved on, "I was thinking about that. And about how I'd feel if… if she really had killed you then."

"And," he gulped, "your, err, verdict was…?"

Janey did not answer straight away, but Sam was holding his breath. This was the most emotional exchange they'd ever had. It was the closest she'd ever really come to speaking about what was going on in her heart.

When she did speak it was in a shy voice. And even though he couldn't see her face anyway, she was hiding beneath her fringe. "I'd be… sad."

"Sad?" Sam repeated, a little disappointed. He'd been hoping for _traumatised_ or _heartbroken_. "Oh."

"I'd miss you, I mean," Janey tried to elaborate.

"As in, like, you'd miss me in the same way as you'd miss… James?" he suggested. "Or – or Albus? Or –"

"Not… exactly," she mumbled.

Sam was pushing her. Not in the way he had done during dinner, when he'd been trying to goad her and make her snap and yell. But she was so close to actually confessing something just a little deeper about her feelings towards him – the first time she'd do so without it being forced out of her with a truth potion. He was desperate to hear her say the words.

But Janey was up and down. Even just throughout that day she'd been in a whirlwind of emotions, swinging from one extreme to the other. First cold and bitter, doing all she could to ignore him, then frustrated and angry, and now – and this was rare, he knew – a lot more affectionate. A lot more open.

In the morning she could very well go back to ignoring him or snapping at him for every little thing, none of the gentleness and tenderness she was displaying just then.

He was so close. Just a _little_ bit further.

"So, like –"

"Sam, stop it," Janey ordered, cutting across him impatiently, like a repeat from earlier. "I know what you're doing."

"What?" he asked innocently. "I'm just trying to make conversation," he mumbled in protest.

"No," she said furiously, "you're trying to dig for something deeper. And I told you earlier – knock it off. I'm not ready to do this yet."

Sam frowned, his heart sinking. "But – I just don't understand – I'm not asking a lot of you."

"Well, it's a big deal to me."

"Why?" he demanded. "I don't get it. You just spent a _lot_ of time snogging me; you're willing to stick your tongue in my mouth, but you can't even actually just _tell_ me how you feel?"

Sam immediately felt annoyed at himself. Why would anybody be that blunt? He'd had a good time that evening, and now he'd probably just compromised everything. Janey was probably going to storm off again. He could feel her tensing in his arms, visibly uncomfortable.

"If you were against it so much you didn't _have_ to join in," she said spitefully.

"I'm not against it!" Sam protested, suddenly horrified that she thought he was resentful of the snogging. "I'm very, _very_ up for it," he clarified. "I just… you know, I'd like to know how _you're_ feeling. Whether it actually means anything to you or not."

She didn't respond. Sam groaned internally. Why, why did he have to ruin it? They'd had such a pleasant, semi-romantic evening up until then!

"I'm sorry," he mumbled, feeling hugely guilty. He should have just let her take it at her own pace, rather than trying to push for something more. Janey was strong-willed; she needed to set the terms.

Sam squeezed her slightly, nestling his chin into the top of her hair. She didn't push him away – a positive sign. Several seconds of silence passed.

"I was thinking," Janey said in a quiet, shaky voice, unprompted by Sam, "about how I'd regret it if I'd lost you at any point during our mission. Because" – she paused to gulp, uncertain about whether to go any further. Sam remained silent, trying not to prompt her. "Because I… I would regret only having been mean to you. And part of me… didn't want to be mean to you," she said weakly.

Well, Sam thought, it was _something._

But Janey wasn't done. "Part of me knew," she burst out, desperate to elaborate more. "Part of me knew I didn't – well, that I – I didn't _hate_ the idea of… you _._ "

Sam could sense that she was trying but that it was hard for her. But he respected the attempt a lot.

"And me," she gulped.

Sam still didn't say anything. It seemed to work better when he didn't – when he let her try and explain it on her own terms. He thought it rather helped that she wasn't looking at him either. It was like he wasn't there. She was more at ease at the notion of talking more to herself than to him.

"And it frustrated me to think I might have wasted my chance. Not that I _wanted_ anything to happen," Janey said hurriedly. "But… but it frustrated me that I might never have the chance to, err, have that opportunity," she finished quietly.

"So what you're saying," Sam said, gently teasing, "is that had it been, say, Mason or Albus or someone else, stood where I was, you wouldn't have strictly reacted in the same way?"

"What?"

"It wasn't just the thrill of victory," he explained. "It wasn't just that you were excitable and pumped-up and wanted to, err, throw yourself at someone – anyone. It was because… it was… _me?"_

"Are you suggesting I just wanted a victory snog?" she asked playfully.

"Well" – Sam shrugged, a grin breaking out – "you never know."

"Well," Janey considered, "Rose was right there next to you, wasn't she? I suppose I could have just snogged her."

"Oh my God," Sam murmured, a very vivid image suddenly branded into his mind. "You," he gulped, "you, ah, you could have, yeah. _Yeah_ ," he breathed. "I wouldn't have minded that…"

Janey snorted. "Are you saying you'd have rather I snogged Rose instead?"

"No," Sam said wickedly. "I'm very glad you snogged me. But, well, if you _had_ wanted to snog Rose instead, I _certainly_ would have been okay with that."

"Pervert."

"No, no, I'm just tolerant of your choices," he teased. "But yeah, no, that was a good choice you made. In, err, in snogging me. I very much approve of it."

"It would have only been you," she clarified. "I'm not insatiable."

"What?"

Janey rolled her eyes (not that Sam could see). "I kissed you because I wanted to kiss _you_ – no one else. And not because I just fancied a bit of a post-battle snog," she scoffed.

An uncontained grin had spread out across Sam's face (not that Janey could see), and his heart, he could swear, actually skipped a beat. She might as well have just proposed to him for what it was worth, in terms of progress.

Rather than verbally respond, not wanting to make Janey uncomfortable by drawing attention to what she'd said – it was a pretty big step for her, after all – Sam just kissed the top of her head, once more giving her an affectionate squeeze within their embrace.

She responded by turning her head up to look at him with a shy smile and innocent eyes, full of tenderness. Sam returned the smile with ease, wondering if his eyes could possibly convey that same affection.

With a slight sigh, and this time Sam was sure it was of contentment, Janey turned her head away, once more resting it against his chest, just above his heart. She said nothing more, her eyelids gently flickering closed, and neither did he. He ran a soothing hand up and down her arm for a while, enjoying the warmth of her in his arms, until his eyes flickered shut too.

Lovingly entangled, heartrates slowing but beating in sync, with the fire still burning, filling them further with warmth, Janey and Sam fell asleep in each other's arms. They remained like that the entire night. It would be but the first of many nights spent in each other's embrace.

It was that memory that Janey dreamt about, her first night alone after the divorce, a cold and noticeable absence in the bed she'd shared with her ex-husband for the past three years.

Sam, however, did not. For he didn't sleep at all that night. He lay awake, his mind in turmoil, trying not to disturb Isabella.

* * *

 _ **Author's Note:** Italicised lyrics and the title inspiration from Pixie Lott's 'Hold Me In Your Arms'_

 _Hey guys, just a notice about something I'm excited about which you may or may not be interested in - I've just started a Twitter account separate from my personal one, purely based on fanfiction stuff. If you want to, follow me at HolyheadEver on Twitter, and I'll be using it to tweet about updates, background info, 'spoilers' etc ;) based on my ongoing fics (e.g. this one, mostly) and the fanfiction competition I'm currently participating in_

 _Sorry about the three-day delay on this chapter upload, I was extremely busy this weekend, but I'll see you next Saturday as usual_

 _~ Ever_


	5. Shut Up And Love Me

_**Author's Note:** The second section of this chapter actually overlaps with the second section of Chapter 199 'The End Of An Era' of Rose and Scorpius: A Forbidden Love. In that chapter we see things from the girls' point of view, and in this one, the guys' - but I just thought I'd mention and clarify that for reference. The italicised extract at the beginning was taken from that chapter too._

* * *

 **Chapter 5 – Shut Up And Love Me**

* * *

 _Janey was well aware that she'd fallen for Sam, perhaps more so than any other boy she had before. And it terrified her. It scared her to feel so much that she fought against it – dismissed it, denied it, mocked it. Maybe the real reason she was so hesitant to go for it with Sam was that, unlike with all the others, it would hurt her deeply if she lost him._

* * *

"You fell asleep in his _arms_ , Janey," Rose was declaring in a shrill voice, the morning following Sam and Janey's somewhat romantic evening together.

The girls were alone in their dorm room, a stubborn Janey refusing to admit anything less than innocent was happening between her and the boy they had all publically seen her snog, witness her confess her fierce attraction to, and then caught sleeping in each other's arms whilst the fire roared behind them.

"It was – an – accident," Janey insisted, refusing to look any of them in the eye, and busying herself by aggressively filing her nails.

"How do you accidentally fall asleep in someone's arms?" Taylor asked suspiciously.

"We were tired!"

"Yes, but _why_ were you even in his arms in the first place?"

Janey fell silent, pursing her lips, still filing away.

"You were sat on his lap," Rose pointed out a little smugly. "You were alone in the common room and you – you were sat on his lap in the armchair. The one by the fire," she said wisely, as though this made a huge difference. "His arms were around you."

"Yeah, by _accident,_ " Janey mumbled.

"Funny," Gwen piped up, "but that has never once _accidentally_ happened to me."

"Nor me," Taylor said spitefully.

"Nor me!" Rose chimed in.

"Yeah," Janey scoffed, "like you've never accidentally been all curled up with Scorpius." As Rose's face fell into an embarrassed frown, Janey ploughed on, gaining confidence. "Like you've never run off with him in a creepy woods and _accidentally_ gone skinny dipping."

"We – what – how did you –?" Rose spluttered, her cheeks instantly flushing with colour. "We weren't _skinny dipping!"_ she cried.

Janey just raised her eyebrows, grateful that she now had the upper-hand. The others seemed to have lost interest on grilling Janey on her rendezvous with Sam the night prior, and were now eagerly keen to learn of Rose's furthered involvement with her ex-boyfriend.

"How did you even…?"

"Your clothes were absolutely sopping wet," Janey smirked, tossing the nail file to one side. "Or did you think we'd be so distracted by Bobbin's 'death' that we wouldn't notice?"

"Yes, our clothes were wet," Rose said furiously, "because we _were_ wearing clothes, because we _weren't_ skinny dipping!"

"Alright," Janey said coolly, "but I did notice that Scorpius' jumper wasn't wet at all. Yet his hair was."

"So?" Rose demanded, still furiously blushing.

" _So_ , I think we can only jump to the conclusion that young Mr Malfoy was, in fact, shirtless during your little dip."

Rose didn't say anything immediately, her eyes wide, her face mortified. She exhaled, her lip twitching, struggling to form a feasible explanation. "Yeah, but – but he wasn't – we weren't –"

"Partial nudity," Janey interrupted. "That's like, half-hearted skinny dipping but it still counts."

"We weren't –"

"Did you see his nipples?"

"Janey!"

"Well, did you?" Taylor piped up, deeply intrigued.

Rose just glared at her. She turned her fury back on Janey. "At least I didn't _throw_ myself at him in public. In front of all our teachers and our fellow students –"

"Rose, you did actually do that once when you were dating," Gwen pointed out.

"Look," Rose snapped, her patience for their interrogation wearing thin, "we're not talking about me and Scorpius right now. And what may or may not have happened in Rosewood –"

"You saw his nipples," Taylor snorted under her breath, prompting sniggers from the other two.

"We are talking," Rose growled, ignoring them all, "about what happened last night between you" – she glared at Janey – "and Sam."

The smug girl's sniggering immediately ceased. "There is _nothing_ going on between Sam and I," she said quietly.

"Janey," Rose said in a highly patronising voice, "last night we saw you doing everything you could to ignore Sam's blatant attempts at engaging you in any form of physical contact; we saw you _flip out_ when he tried to hold your hand; then we come back to the common room to find you… wrapped up in each other's arms!"

"We just… talked," Janey said weakly, blushing at the memory which, of course, couldn't be further. "It just kind of _happened_."

"And you're _still_ denying that there's anything happening between you and Sam?" Gwen asked.

Janey looked away. "That's because there _isn't_ –"

"Did you kiss?" Taylor interrupted, ever blunt.

Janey was so startled by the enquiry that she hesitated before denying it. "Obviously not," she scoffed.

"Alright," Rose said sarcastically, "let's rephrase it: Did you _snog?_ "

"No," Janey said through gritted teeth.

"But you were sleeping together!"

"We most certainly did not!"

"No, I didn't mean it like that," Rose hurriedly backtracked. "I meant... You know what I meant," she mumbled.

"What happened between Sam and I last night is between Sam and I," Janey said firmly. "And I don't want you" – she glared at them all – "or anybody else for that matter, speculating, or assuming, or –"

"It's a bit late for that," Taylor snorted.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Janey, you do realise you were in the Gryffindor Common Room, right?"

"So?"

"So," Taylor said, "it's not exactly a private place, is it?"

Janey's heart skipped a beat. "Yeah, but, I mean… we were alone," she protested in a quiet voice. Just her, Sam, and the fire. "Nobody saw us."

Rose, Taylor, and Gwen all looked at her like she was stupid. _"Everybody_ saw you," Gwen countered. "Like, literally the whole house. You're lucky we were there first actually."

Janey's heartrate had quickened. "What – why?"

"Rose can be very aggressive," Taylor said wisely. "People have a lot of respect for her when she's being authoritative."

Janey just looked to the redhead in confusion.

"Look, Janey," Rose explained, looking sympathetic at the poor girl's total confusion, "you and Sam were barely at the feast – you left straight away. And then you did" – she blushed – "whatever it was that you did before, well, falling asleep by the fire. And we were, you know, concerned for you, because neither of you had come back, and you'd seemed pretty angry –"

"We thought you might have killed Sam," Taylor piped up.

"Right," Rose agreed. "So we skipped dessert and headed back to the Gryffindor Common Room before anybody else – to check you were alright."

"How did you know we were there?" Janey demanded.

"We saw Professor Roberts," Rose explained. "He was in the corridor and he said he'd seen you and Sam and that you'd said you were going back to the Gryffindor T–"

"Did he say anything?" Janey asked in a panic.

"Well, yeah – that you were going back to the Gryffindor Tower…"

"Was that all?" she gulped.

Rose cocked her head curiously. "Yeah…?"

"Right," Janey mumbled. "Good. Go on, then."

"Okay, so, yeah, we went back to the Gryffindor Common Room where you and Sam were…"

"Yes, okay," Janey said impatiently.

"But then people started coming back," Rose continued. "And, well… you and Sam, you just looked so cute and peaceful, and I didn't want anybody to disturb you so I, you know, told people not to linger and go straight to bed."

"You did _what?"_

"It's amazing how scary she is when she's authoritative like that," Taylor said appreciatively. "The First Years were terrified."

"You sent the entirety of Gryffindor House to _bed?"_ Janey asked incredulously. "Just so Sam and I could…?"

"Cuddle," Taylor said sweetly.

"We did _not_ cuddle."

"Yeah, sure, even though the entire house saw you," Taylor muttered under her breath.

Janey was back to looking mortified. "The _whole_ house saw?" she asked in a quiet voice.

"Well, that's why I didn't let anybody stay in the common room," Rose explained. "I didn't think you'd appreciate everybody… ogling you."

"And you didn't think to _wake_ me?" she hissed, suddenly angry.

Rose blushed again. "You and Sam looked so peaceful," she defended. "And I didn't want to disturb you. Besides, you're a _very_ heavy sleeper."

"Rose!"

"Janey, it's not a big deal," Rose insisted. "I thought you'd appreciate it."

"But –"

"Oh, just get over it," Taylor sighed. "It's done; it's over; it's happened now. It was cute, alright? Everybody thought it was super cute."

"I don't _want_ people to think Sam and I are super cute!" Janey protested. "I don't want people to think Sam and I are _anything._ Because we're not," she said firmly.

"Right," Gwen said.

"We're not!"

"Totally agree," Taylor added in a bored voice.

"We're –"

"Janey, why are you so against this?" Rose sighed.

"You and Scorpius were at his house for almost a whole hour!" Janey suddenly yelled at the unsuspecting girl.

Rose looked thoroughly shocked by the outburst. "What's that got to do with anything?"

"You went there to find the blueprint, you were gone for a whole hour, and then you came back _without_ the bloody blueprint! Don't think we don't know exactly what you were doing," she accused.

"Stop trying to turn this around on me!"

"I'm sorry," Janey said sarcastically, "it's not nice when people grill you on your supposed romantic life, is it?"

"Janey, you know I wasn't –"

"Whatever," the blonde girl scoffed, her fuse having come to an end. "I'm not talking about this anymore." She ignored their desperate pleas as she stormed from the room in true Janey fashion.

Janey was fuming as she marched down the stairs to the common room, mortified that every single Gryffindor student had apparently played witness to what had been a beautiful and private stolen moment between her and Sam, only to find herself, as she emerged into the room, face to face with none other than –

"Sam," she squeaked.

At the sight of her his eyes widened, the blush instantly creeping in, a reflection of her own face. "Morning," he gulped, in somewhat of a daze.

Although they'd spent the whole night in each other's arms, and despite the closeness of their tender moment the night before, both had been hugely embarrassed to find themselves curled up in the armchair in the early hours of that morning. Janey had leapt away with such horror that you might have thought Sam had been on fire.

No words had been said, just a lot of awkward mumbling and stuttering, until Janey had promptly fled back to her dorm room, Sam retreating to his own soon after.

Janey hadn't seen him since then. Not until now. "Morning," she mumbled back.

"I, uh, I was… going to go to breakfast," he said awkwardly. Static and uneasy, it was like those tender and passionate interactions had never happened.

Janey was painfully aware that those others already in the common room were watching them with beady eyes. Her mouth felt dry. "I, err, I was…"

"Do you want to join me?" Sam interrupted, looking uncomfortably hopeful.

"Alone?" Janey squeaked.

"We don't have to," he added quickly. "We can wait for the others if you want."

But the thought of being around the other Gryffin-Girls after the conversation they'd just had, especially with Sam there too, only made Janey feel more anxious. "No," she said firmly. "No, I ah… let's go," she blurted out, grabbing for his hand, pulling him towards the portrait hole.

Sam hurried along in a daze. Janey, upon noticing people's shocked stares at the hasty hand-holding, dropped it so aggressively that she actually rather _threw_ it back at him. "Sorry," she mumbled, when he looked alarmed.

"That's… okay," he mumbled back.

Emerging into the empty corridor, Janey was just relieved that no pairs of eyes were on her any longer. She didn't feel at ease with Sam at the best of times, let alone when they had an audience. But things were by no means easier once they were alone in the corridor. It was incredibly tense and awkward for them both.

"So, err, so did you sleep well?" Sam politely enquired, after a while of silent, awkward walking.

Janey glanced at him uncertainly.

Sam winced as he, of course, remembered. "I'm sorry," he apologised, closing his eyes in frustration at himself. "I… I forgot. I just meant – I just wanted to –"

"Sam," Janey interrupted.

"Mhmm?"

"Do you, maybe, want to… go somewhere?"

Sam just stared at her in confusion. "I thought we were going to breakfast?"

"Well," Janey gulped, "I just thought – it's, err, it's quite early for breakfast."

"Is it?" he asked, deeply confused. "Janey, I don't think it is. I mean, I'm sure plenty of other people will –"

"No, but I thought," she said slowly, clearly, "we could maybe take a detour, you know?"

"Like… where?" Sam asked, more confused than ever. He was pretty hungry, after all.

"The fifth floor," Janey gulped.

"Why would we –?" Sam stopped abruptly, his eyes widening as he realised what she was getting at. "Really?" he asked breathlessly.

Janey had that adorably shy look about her again. "The broom cupboards are pretty spacious… Or so I hear. We could" – she looked at him suggestively, peering up through her eyelashes – "loiter."

"Yeah?"

"For a bit."

Sam waited for only a couple of seconds as it sunk in. "Let's go," he said eagerly, grabbing for her hand in the same way as she had back in the common room.

The pair of them ran to the fifth floor as though their lives depended on it, their hurried footsteps echoing around the cavernous stone walls of the corridors, never once dropping hands.

They completely missed breakfast.

* * *

 _And how can you be  
_ _Too blind to see  
_ _The girl who stands before you  
_ _Who wants you more than anything_

* * *

Sam, Albus, Mason, and James were all sprawled out on the various armchairs that resided in the Gryffindor Common Room, lolling around, all looking bored and frustrated. It was the last day of the school year. They were completely alone in the common room when Rose walked in, deeply surprised.

"What are you doing?" she asked in amusement, having just returned from talking with the headmistress. "Where is everybody?"

"Outside," James grunted.

"So why aren't you outside? I was just coming back to grab my wand and then I was going to meet you out there?"

"We're waiting for Janey," Sam sighed. Everybody glared at him like it was his fault. "She's not packed yet," he explained to Rose.

"She's not _packed?"_ Rose repeated in disbelief. "How can she be so unorganised? How can she _always_ leave everything to the last minute?"

"I don't know," Sam replied through gritted teeth, turning red. " _I'm_ not responsible for her."

"Can you please tell her to hurry up?" Albus asked stubbornly. "I'm supposed to be meeting Annabel."

"Yeah, and I'm supposed to be meeting Ebony," James added sulkily.

"Well, I'm not meeting anybody," Mason said with a shrug, "but yeah, I, ah, I would like to go outside…"

"Look, I'll go see what she's doing," Rose decided. She waved a dismissive hand before hurrying up to the dorms, leaving the boys to continue their bored and frustrated lolling.

"You know," Albus piped up spitefully, after a few moments of silence, "if you hadn't been off _snogging_ Janey so much then she might have actually had the time to pack, and we wouldn't be stuck here, bored out of our minds on the last day of term."

"Yeah," James agreed, "this is my last _ever_ day at Hogwarts; I don't want to be stuck up in here whilst everybody's enjoying the sunshine outside!"

"It's not my fault," Sam protested. "And you're not here by force! If you want to go outside then just bloody go outside."

"Oh, come on, that's not very sportsmanlike," James chastised. "We're all in this together."

"What?"

"It _is_ your fault," Albus insisted, mumbling furiously. "It's like I said, if you hadn't been off _snogging_ her for every bloody second of every bloody day –"

"I'm not going to apologise for that!" Sam exclaimed, feeling pretty smug as he leant back in his chair. The same chair, he recognised gleefully, that he and Janey had spent that night curled up together, a couple of weeks ago now. The same chair they'd been sat in when Janey had rather excitingly put her tongue in his mouth for the first time.

Of course, she had done it many times since then. Just not in that chair…

"Ignore him," James dismissed of his little brother. "He's just jealous because he hasn't even kissed Annabel yet."

"You don't know that's not true," Albus protested.

"Well, isn't it?" James asked, sitting up to stare at him with curiosity.

Albus just sighed. "Yeah, it is."

James leant back down contentedly.

"I'm just… taking it slow," Albus insisted. "I still miss Evangeline."

"Oh, yeah," James said with a fond smile, "she was a great snog."

Albus just glared at him. "You're married now," he reminded him fiercely.

"I know," James agreed. "And I'm very happy. I'm just _saying_ –"

"Can we stop this?" Mason groaned. "As exciting this talk of all the great snogs we've had is, and our girlfriends and our wives and whatever, it's just a _little_ bit of a downer when you're as desperately single as I am."

"Mason, I've told you, you've got nobody to blame but yourself for that, mate!" James pointed out. "It's been – what? – two years since you and Gwen broke up; why you haven't gotten back into the dating game is beyond me."

Mason just looked dazed. "But yeah, Gwen and I, we were… serious," he said sadly. "We were together for like, over a year."

"Yeah," James scoffed, " _two_ years ago."

"A year and a half," Mason mumbled.

"What, do you still want to be with her?"

"No," he dismissed easily. "No… I think it's better that we're just friends."

"Then what's the problem? You could literally, like, get with anyone."

"I don't want to be with just anyone though."

James sat up again with curiosity once more. "Who, then?"

Mason looked momentarily mortified, like he'd let slip something he really shouldn't have. "No, no… I didn't mean it like that," he dismissed with clear unease. "I just meant – it's not just about 'getting' with anyone – not just snogging – I'd rather _be_ with someone. Properly, you know?"

"I do know, mate," James said proudly, holding up his hand to waggle his ring finger, complete with a shiny new wedding band. Mason eyed it enviously. As did Albus and Sam.

"I could set you up with Isabella?" Sam suggested.

"Your ex-girlfriend?" Mason asked with distaste. Sam nodded. "Wasn't she kind of a psycho though?"

Sam blushed. " _No_ , she was just –"

"She was, Sam," James cut across.

"Well, yeah, _maybe_ , but only when Janey was involved… I mean, excluding that, she was kind of alright."

"No offence, but I think I'll pass," Mason offered with a kind smile. "As delightful as I'm sure she is, I just think it would be kind of weird to be with someone one of us has already dated. I'm leaving Hogwarts anyway; it wouldn't work."

"No," James agreed, "you need to do what Sam did and stick with someone inside the group."

"What's that supposed to mean?" the boy in question demanded.

James looked at him like he was stupid. "You know… Janey? Short, angry, blonde girl? You might actually recognise her if you detached your face from hers every once in a while."

"Janey and I aren't – we aren't together," Sam spluttered. "Not like, _officially."_

"Wait, you know what I just realised?" James interrupted Sam's desperate ramblings, looking to be deep in thought. "You have pretty much been through _everybody_ in our little group."

"What?"

"Yeah," James went on excitedly, counting off on his fingers. "First there was _Rose._ "

"Rose and I were never together," Sam said shrilly.

"Sam, mate, you were in love with her for like, _four_ whole years," James scoffed. "It was beyond a crush – you were obsessed with her."

Sam was mortified at the reminder. He'd been very pushy back in those days, and incredibly and unashamedly desperate. But even the thought of being with Rose – even the thought of feeling for her how he had done for so long once more – just felt hollow. It felt _wrong._

"Yes," he said weakly, "but we weren't ever together. And besides – I am really, truly, over that now."

"I should hope so," Albus said, "for two reasons. Firstly, that's a pretty douchebag move considering you've been snogging Janey for the past month –"

"Three weeks," Sam muttered.

"– And secondly, I'm pretty sure Scorpius would kill you."

"Hey," James suddenly laughed, "do you remember that time when you and Scorpius had that huge public argument over Rose a couple of years ago?"

"Yes," Sam said, rolling his eyes. "Do you remember how you _attacked_ him when he was wandless?"

"You full-on punched him," James mumbled in protest.

"He punched me too! And besides, no way in hell is that somehow worse than you firing _Stunning Spells_ at him when he didn't have a wand!"

"Yeah" – James frowned – "that was pretty bad."

"I thought you were okay with Scorpius now," Albus said suspiciously, not too comfortable with his best friend being ill-talked about.

"I am," Sam and James said, eerily in sync.

"So, uh, so are they actually together again?" Mason piped up curiously, nervously picking at the arm of his chair. "Rose and Scorpius, I mean."

"I don't think so," Sam said. "Not from what Janey's told me. They're… taking it slow?"

"At Rose's request, not his," Albus added. "Believe me, it's all he bloody talks about…"

" _Anyway_ ," James announced, getting back to the matter he'd previously been discussing. "As I was saying, first there was Rose. Then," he said gleefully, "there was Taylor."

Sam groaned, closing his eyes and dropping his head back. "Please," he begged, "that was a mistake. It was… the worst relationship ever."

"That's a little harsh," Albus said.

"It's perfectly mutual," Sam insisted. "Ask Taylor; she'll say the same. And anyway, we both knew it wasn't real. We both had ulterior motives," he gulped.

"Rose-related ulterior motives," James smirked.

Sam and Taylor had unknowingly been on the same page when they'd briefly dated back at the end of their fourth year. Rose had been on the brink of her relationship with Scorpius, and both Sam and Taylor had been insanely jealous. Sam, because as James had already pointed out, he was pretty much obsessed with Rose, and couldn't bear to see her in the arms of another given how readily she'd rejected himself. Taylor, because she'd been jealous of the fact that Rose had been devoting all her time to the Slytherin boy and not to her best friend, and because Taylor had felt desperately alone, being the only one of her friends with no romantic involvement.

Sam had used Taylor to make Rose jealous, and vice versa. Though Rose had not been attracted to Sam, constantly rejecting his advances, she'd always been conflicted in her feelings towards him. Taylor had really put her to test by taking Sam away from her, and she had done so knowingly and vindictively. Sam had been all too happy to try, in vain, any attempt at making Rose jealous too, and Taylor had been more than willing.

It had been a lousy relationship though, perfectly unemotional, and over pretty quickly.

"I'm pretty sure you even had a thing for Ebony once," James said disapprovingly, "if I seem to remember correctly."

Sam blushed. His attraction to Ebony Snow (formerly Darkbrow and now Potter?) had been pretty brief – a very innocent, hopeless, schoolboy crush, nowhere near on par with the obsessive one he'd had with Rose. It wasn't anything any of the Hogwarts boys hadn't been through though. Ebony _was_ an incredibly attractive girl – to anybody who wasn't blind (and even then it was probably still the same!) – and it was only natural to have a period in which to be hopelessly awestruck with her. Sam's mild 'crush' had only really lasted a few weeks. He certainly had no lingering feelings there.

"That was, like, _nothing_ ," Sam protested. "And you weren't even with her back then. You didn't even know who she was!"

James frowned. "Yeah," he said bitterly. "I can't believe you knew her and you didn't even introduce me!" he accused. "Idiot!"

"You _married_ her, James!" Sam pointed out. "I think it's safe to say things worked out pretty well for you either way."

James was back to grinning again, that same smug smile. "Yeah," he agreed, still grinning like an idiot. "Pretty well indeed."

"Was there a point to any of this?" Sam sighed.

"Oh, yeah, right," James remembered, snapping out of his idiotic, lovestruck daze. "So yeah, and now you're with Janey. So really, the only one you _haven't_ gone for – is Gwen."

"Don't get any ideas," Mason said disapprovingly, frowning at Sam. "I'm not overprotective or anything, but that really wouldn't be cool."

"I've no interest in Gwen," Sam spluttered. "You know, no offence," he added. "And can we go back to this 'now you're with Janey' agenda?" he asked, furrowing his brow in James' direction. "I am not 'with' Janey," he said indignantly.

All three boys looked at him like he was stupid.

"Are you sure?" Mason asked.

"Why not?" Albus demanded.

"Are you an _idiot?"_ James scoffed.

"No," Sam replied coolly, "and I'd appreciate it if you stopped calling me one."

"Sam, I'm not being funny but you are literally _always_ snogging Janey," James said. "What the hell do you think you mean in saying you're not 'with' her?"

"I'm not snogging her now," Sam pointed out.

"Thank Merlin," Albus muttered.

"But it's… complicated," Sam said uncomfortably. "We're not, like, _together_ together."

"Ugh," Albus groaned, "you sound exactly like Scorpius right now. Do you know how irritating this is? All day I get this 'it's complicated – we spend all day sucking face but we're not _together_ together blah, blah, blah' crap from him. I do _not_ need it from you too!"

"And besides," James input, "it's not _complicated_. You snog a lot of girls until you find the one you want to snog for the rest of your life. Then you put a ring on it and hey, you're sorted. _Easy._ "

"If only Ebony could hear you now," Mason said drily.

"That's easy for you to say," Sam mumbled in protest, "but this is _Janey._ "

"So?"

"So, she's impossible to read! She doesn't talk about her feelings or stuff; she never lets me know where we stand. All we do is _snog_ ," he sighed.

"Wow, that's such a tough life," Albus said sarcastically.

"Dude, I'm pretty sure, given how much time she spends attached to your face, she's kind of into you," Mason said much more politely. "Isn't it kind of obvious, given how much time she wants to spend snogging you?"

"Yeah, how many times has it been now?" James asked.

"I don't know; I don't keep count," Sam lied. "But anyway – all of that's irrelevant. This is _Janey_ ," he emphasised again.

"So?"

"So, it's not like she hasn't snogged guys before me! She's… you know, had a lot of snogging recipients, I don't think we can judge that as valid proof that she actually has… feelings," he sheepishly explained.

"Well, I've never snogged her," James said kindly.

"Me neither," Mason agreed.

"Me neither," Albus also agreed.

"Really?" Sam asked curiously, looking at James. The eldest Potter boy, pre-marriage, had basically been the male equivalent of Janey, having worked his way through plenty of girls just for a bit of a thrill. Given both of their 'promiscuous' reputations, it seemed almost a given that they might have had a bit of a snog at some point. Nothing emotional or romantic – nothing they'd ever dwell on – but just, really, for fun.

"Not once," James confirmed. "You wanna know why?"

Sam nodded.

"Because we're friends."

The boy waited for him to elaborate but James just smiled at him knowingly. "Yeah…" he said slowly. "But so are we, and we –"

"No, Sam, you're missing my point," James sighed. "Janey has snogged a lot of guys in this school – and hey, there's nothing wrong with that –"

"I never said there was."

"– and yet, given her reputation, those lips have never found their way to either me, Albus, or Mason. And I mean, when you consider _my_ reputation, that seems surprising, no?"

"Yes…?" Sam said slowly, not really understanding where James was going.

"Because Janey doesn't make out with her friends," James said calmly. "That's a line she hasn't ever crossed, not even for a laugh. Not even by accident."

"So what you're saying is Janey and I aren't even friends?" Sam asked, his voice slightly high-pitched. Was James purposefully trying to hurt him?

"Yes," James said, rolling his eyes, "but not in the way you think I'm implying. You're _not_ Janey's friend, alright?" he asked fiercely.

"But –"

"You are _more_ than her friend, idiot! She _cares_ for you; you _mean_ something to her."

Sam was silenced, letting the theory sink in. "But," he said weakly, after a while, "none of those other guys meant anything to her. I'm… I'm just like one of them. Just some random guy who she can –"

"Sam," James growled, "I am going to _hit_ you in a minute."

"Well, how do you know that's not true?" Sam demanded, angry at James' constant belittling attitude. "Okay, it is _impossible_ to figure out what's going on in her mind – she refuses to talk about any of it. She refuses to talk about _anything._ It's all just _snogging_. And if we're not snogging then we're arguing!"

"Yes," James sighed, "because it's Janey. She doesn't know how to cope with any of this – it's new to her, it's foreign. She's probably just nervous, Sam. She's probably just scared."

"Yeah, but… but I'm _trying_ to get her to open up. But every time I get even a little bit close she just snaps and yells at me."

"That's just Janey's defence mechanism. If you make her feel vulnerable then she's going to bite back. She doesn't know anything else. She doesn't like being so open, so vulnerable."

"But I'm not trying to make her uncomfortable," Sam said in a pleading sort of voice. He couldn't help it; he felt desperate. "I want her to feel safe and comfortable, and _happy._ But it's so confusing for me – never knowing where _she_ stands, so I can't even begin to try and figure out where _I_ stand."

"You're just different people, Sam," James said, now a lot more sympathetic than before. "You move at different paces; you want different things."

Sam frowned. That didn't make them sound all too compatible when James put it like that. Could they ever have a happy, harmonious relationship when their personalities were so different? He should have known, he supposed. Janey was feisty, stubborn, and highly guarded. Sam was the opposite – he craved the deeper, emotional, soul-bearing type of stuff that Janey feared. He _wanted_ to open his heart up to her. He almost _wanted_ to be vulnerable.

"But how am I ever supposed to get us on the same page when she won't ever cooperate with me?"

"I don't know," James exclaimed. "I'm not a relationship expert!"

"Stop snogging her," Albus piped up, somewhat bitterly.

Sam just stared at him. "Yeah," he said drily, "that sounds like exactly what I want..."

"No," Albus said, sitting up sharply, "I'm being serious here. You want to talk – she wants to snog. She won't let you talk about stuff – you don't let her _snog_. See?"

"No," Sam replied. "Not at all. I _like_ the snogging – I very much want it to continue!"

"Yeah, but you can put her to the test. Deprive her of what she wants – that's the snogging – and make it clear she's only going to get it back if she compromises and actually talks to you. It'll drive her crazy; she'll do anything!"

Albus looked quite content as he settled back down into his chair. The three other boys were all regarding him with a sort of mild respect.

"That's a good idea, Albus," Sam praised, "with just two slight complications." His smile dropped back into a frown. "As I said before, I _like_ the snogging, and I don't think I'd even have the willpower to stop it. And secondly: This. Is. _Janey_ ," he growled for what felt like the hundredth time during that conversation alone. "I don't give her anything she can't get anywhere else. She's gonna get bored, she'll lose interest, and then she'll just go looking elsewhere for someone to snog. Someone who didn't tell her he'd rather talk about their emotions than make out!"

Albus just scowled.

"Come on," James snorted, "give little Janey a bit of credit here. If she was just looking for a snog, believe me, she wouldn't go to you."

"Why not?"

"Because, as I said before, Janey doesn't just hook-up with her friends."

"But Janey and I weren't even really _that_ close," Sam said desperately. "I don't think either of us could have happily called the other our friend. We… hated each other," he gulped.

"And you think Janey would snog people she _hated_ , if she was just looking for a snog?" James challenged.

Sam blushed. "Well, no, I guess not. But –"

"Janey could go and snog any guy in this school!" James yelled across him, actually rising from his seat. Sam was frozen in horror as James advanced towards him, fierce and aggressive. "When are you going to understand this? She's not _so_ insatiable, and she doesn't have so few options, that she'd spend three whole bloody weeks snogging a guy she either considered to be just a friend, or who she fiercely _hated_."

"But –" Sam whimpered.

"Janey has been snogging you for three whole weeks because she _doesn't_ hate you," James went on, "and because she _doesn't_ consider you to be her friend. She has been snogging you" – James jabbed a finger into Sam's chest – "because you are _more_ than a friend, and because her feelings couldn't be _further_ from hatred."

"But how do you know?" Sam whined. "How do you know that I'm not just… that I'm not just –"

"Because anybody with eyes can see that!" James scoffed. Mason and Albus grunted in agreement.

"But she doesn't talk to me! If that's true then why can't she just _tell_ me?"

James withdrew his finger so he could stand up straight and look down at Sam with incredulousness. "Because it's _Janey_. She doesn't know how to deal with this – she's probably never felt like this before. It's new to her and she doesn't know how to handle it. The poor girl's terrified, so she's resorting to the only things she knows how to do. And that's snogging," he smirked, "and arguing with you. She's so used to arguing with you, to hiding her feelings and trying to convince herself that she hates you, that she doesn't know anything else. That's all," he said more kindly. "That's all it is."

Sam just gulped. He knew it made a lot of sense, but it was still so frustrating for him. "But it's… exhausting," he sighed.

"What?" James asked innocently. "The snogging? You need to build up your stamina, mate."

"Not the _snogging_ ," Sam said, narrowing his eyes. "The not knowing where I stand with her. I don't _get_ Janey. But I want to," he said desperately. "I want to, like, really know her. You know?"

"I do know," James said kindly. "Believe me, _I know_."

"But she's so closed off! She doesn't let anybody in."

"Well," Mason suggested. "Have you told her how you feel? Maybe if you put yourself out on the line it will make her feel more comfortable, and encourage her to do the same."

"She never lets me," Sam pouted. "I told you, every time I get close she just snaps and yells at me, or storms off or something."

"Right, Sam," James declared, clapping his hands together, "there's an obvious solution to this, but you might not like it."

"My idea was pretty good," Albus said in a sulky voice.

"Your idea was stupid –"

"What's the idea?" Sam interrupted.

James turned back from where'd he been smirking at his brother. "You like Janey, right? You want to be with her? Properly? Not just for a snog every now and again?"

Sam dropped his gaze, the heat rising to his face. "Well," he mumbled.

"Yes or no?" James asked impatiently.

"Yes," Sam sighed, still refusing to look up.

"You're gonna have to ask her out."

Sam did look up then, very sharply. " _What?"_

"It's simple. You don't talk about any soppy emotional crap about where you stand or how you're feeling – you march up to her, look her in the eye, and give it to her straight. Ask her outright if she wants to be your girlfriend."

"Are you _insane?"_ Sam yelled.

James kept a perfectly straight face. "Deadly serious, my friend."

"But – but – how is that –?"

"She'll have to give you a simple, honest answer," James explained. "She'll either say yes, or she'll say no."

"Well, you'd think," Albus muttered under his breath. "But when Scorpius did that to Rose the other week she gave some vague half-arsed, 'no labels' kind of thing."

"Yeah, but this is Janey," James pointed out. "And Sam. They're not Rose and Scorpius – it's a different situation altogether. That might work for them. But for you" – he nodded at Sam – "this is really your only choice."

"I don't think that's strictly true," Sam mumbled.

"Sam, you are never going to make any progress with Janey if you don't take some serious action. Either you spend the rest of your time at Hogwarts running off and making out with her – nothing emotional, purely physical – and bear in mind that if you do that then you're not allowed to moan about the fact that you don't ever talk about anything – or you force her into making a decision. If she says yes, hey presto, you've made progress! You might _actually_ be able to get something a little more emotional out of her."

"And if she says no?" Sam asked frostily.

"You get over it," James said simply. "Or you go back to mindless snogging – your choice."

"If she can't even open up about the simplest of things though, what makes you think she'll actually agree to be in a relationship with me?" Sam asked.

He'd always pictured it differently. He and Janey, after their first kiss, would start to open up to each other. They'd find out their likes, their dislikes, their hopes, their dreams, their fears – they'd bare their souls to each other, building a strong foundation, strengthening that soulful connection they'd already developed. And then, it would only make sense for them to be together. Timing would be perfect; it would all fall into place.

Subtle things at first – nothing drastic. And then one day they'd wake up and realise they were in the emotional place to be in a relationship, and all they needed to do was make it official. Sam had had a plan, you see. A plan Janey had stubbornly compromised by refusing to partake in…

"I think you're approaching this the wrong way," James said, like he could somehow read Sam's mind. "Janey's difficult – we've all accepted that. For whatever reasons – I don't know what they are – she's not just going to open up about herself, whether that's with regards to her feelings towards you, or, you know, that kind of deeper stuff about why she is the way she is – why she's so sheltered, and afraid to be vulnerable."

Sam swallowed a lump in his throat, his mouth dry.

James went on. "She's not going to do any of that until she's fully comfortable. Until she knows, one hundred percent, that you aren't just going to leave her."

"I wouldn't just leave her," Sam said quietly.

"Janey needs to know it's more than anything she's had before. It's not just snogging – it's not just physical – and that you're not just going to use her, or lose interest, or whatever it is she's so afraid of. And you need to prove that to her."

"But – how?"

"By asking her out," James said calmly. "Committing to her – proving to her you're not just in it for the snogs."

"Yeah, but if she just _talked_ to me then she'd know that's not true anyway," Sam mumbled sulkily.

"Hey," James laughed, raising his hands in defence, "there's no use arguing with me about it. It's Janey you need to prove that to. Now, I'm not saying that by you simply asking her to go out with you, and her agreeing, will strictly mean she's just going to straight-up start pouring her heart out to you. But it'll be a start. It's the sentiment behind it. It'll be a big step – the first big step she'll need in starting to ease up around you."

Sam hated to admit it, but James' theory seemed scarily accurate. But he was conflicted. _He_ didn't exactly want to put himself out on the line like that either.

"And," Sam gulped, "if that doesn't work? If she doesn't even say yes?"

"Why are you so afraid of even asking her?" James snorted. "Surely this isn't the first time you've done it before. Didn't you ask Isabella?"

"No," Sam said slowly, casting his mind back. "I think she just kind of… decided?"

"Well, what about Taylor?"

"No, she asked me."

"Rose!" James burst out triumphantly. "You were _persistent_ with Rose. Four whole years you went after her, she shut you down every single time, and you _still_ didn't let that dissuade you."

"Alright, don't go on about it," Sam said, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. When James put it like that Sam sounded like a total creep.

"If you had the balls to keep going after Rose even after all that rejection, why can't you just ask Janey out?"

"It's… different," Sam gulped. "With Rose, I knew – or at least I thought I knew – what she'd say. I was always prepared for her to say no, thinking one day, if I was lucky enough, she might actually say yes."

"Why can't you do that with Janey?" Albus asked, confused.

"What?"

"Prepare for her to say no. That way, if she does, you won't be surprised. And if she _does_ say yes, it'll be a huge, wonderful shock and it'll all be fine."

Sam considered what Albus was suggesting. But there was a huge complication. "Because –" he started in a shaky voice.

"It will kill him if she says no," Mason answered in a calm, quiet voice, taking them all by surprise.

Sam just gulped. James and Albus looked to Mason with inquisitive frowns.

"It means more," Mason said quietly. "It means more to him than it ever did with" – he gulped – "Rose."

"What do you mean?" James demanded, all of them looking to Mason rather than Sam.

"He's not young anymore," Mason explained. "It's not just a stupid, childish schoolboy crush like it was before – this is _real._ This is serious. And that means it's going to _hurt._ "

The boys were all silent, pondering on exactly what Mason had said. Sam spoke after a while, now feeling deeply vulnerable, his voice shaky and strained. "He's, err, he's right. Yeah."

James just nodded. "Well, Sam, buddy, the ball's in your court. You can play it safe, keep doing what you're doing – plenty of snogging but not a whole lot of talking – that same constant uncertainty. Or you can take a risk. Be a Gryffindor, be a _man._ "

"But this is – this is Janey," Sam said in a desperate voice.

"Have you ever asked a girl to marry you?"

Sam looked alarmed. "No, of course not."

"I have," James said smugly. "I asked her to run away with me, at seventeen years old, away from her family and friends, and commit herself to a guy with a highly questionable reputation, who'd never committed to anything before in his life, and who hadn't even so much as told her that he loved her."

"Yeah?" Sam breathed.

"And you don't think that was the scariest thing I've _ever_ done in my life?" James asked sarcastically. "You don't think I was scared senseless that she wouldn't just turn me down, or laugh in my face or something?"

"Yeah," Sam protested, "but that didn't happen."

"No," James agreed, "it didn't. But it might have. I certainly didn't know that it wouldn't when I put myself out on the line like I did. But I took that risk, didn't I? Because I knew what I wanted and I was prepared to do anything I could to get it – even if that meant risking it all and looking like a total idiot."

"But you and Ebony –" Sam said weakly.

"Are no different to you and Janey. _Trust me._ "

Sam still found that hard to believe. James was _James._ And he, well… he was just Sam.

"What have you got to lose?" James demanded.

"My integrity," Sam spluttered. "My humility, my dignity, my –"

James waved a dismissive hand. "You lost all that after countless years of publically pursuing Rose. Get over it, Sam. Could you honestly live with yourself if you knew happiness was just out of your grasp, but you were too scared to pursue it? That's not very Gryffindor at all."

"It's the last day of term," Mason pointed out kindly. "If she says no then you don't even have to see her again for the whole summer. You can just… run off with your head hanging, wait for it all to blow over, and come back in September with a new confidence."

James snapped his fingers and pointed at Mason. " _That_ ," he said excitedly, "is an excellent point."

Sam supposed they had a point with that. But still, Janey was just too unpredictable. And now she had the power to hurt him – to _really_ hurt him. He was in too deep. He would be crushed if she just rejected him now.

"So I just ask her?" he asked uncertainly. "Like, straight up?"

James nodded.

"I don't lead up to it? I don't take her hands or –?"

"No," James dismissed, "and you better do it quickly too."

Sam's heart started hammering away in his chest. "What – why?"

"Because she's coming down the stairs right now."

And the rest was history.

* * *

 _ **Author's Note:**_ _Italicised lyrics in the middle, and title inspiration from Demi Lovato's 'Shut Up And Love Me'_


	6. The Only Exception

**Chapter 6 – The Only Exception**

* * *

 _Maybe I know somewhere, deep in my soul  
_ _That love never lasts  
_ _And we've got to find other ways to make it alone  
_ _Or keep a straight face_

 _And I've always lived like this  
_ _Keeping a comfortable distance  
_ _And up until now I had sworn to myself  
_ _That I'm content with loneliness_

 _Because none of it was ever worth the risk_

* * *

That first summer was bliss.

The seeds of romance, so angrily restricted for such a long time, were finally free to blossom. No longer in denial about their feelings, hiding behind a guise of anger and hatred, and now with a more liberal understanding of the state of their relationship, openly defined as what it was, Sam and Janey found a sense of comfort around each other. By no means did that mean it was easier though.

Perhaps they moved too quickly; perhaps it had been too early and too big a transition. Rose and Scorpius had the right idea. Even though theirs was an entirely different story altogether, the estranged couple overcoming different boundaries to those faced by their friends, they were taking things slow over the summer. Slower than they were used to.

Sam and Janey, in contrast, fully dived into their relationship. At least two years of spiteful arguing, a hasty and unexpected first kiss, three weeks of near- _constant_ snogging and very little emotional depth verbally explored, and they were all of a sudden an official couple?

It had not been the way Sam had wanted to approach things. Three weeks prior and he hadn't even really known how he felt towards Janey, and now she was his girlfriend. He'd have wanted to handle things in the way Rose and Scorpius now were with their newly reformed 'almost' relationship – they were re-getting to know each other, enjoying the playful, fun side of a relationship, no labels, before re-assessing where they stood after the summer, and moving forwards from there. One step at a time. Gentle, slow, and easy.

But James had been right. Janey was a special case, and if Sam wanted her to comfortably open up about herself, which he did, then he needed to prove to her how committed he was. He needed to be fully hers. There could be no 'testing the waters' for the summer and then re-assessing where they stood in September.

No, he was Janey's now, and she his. Official. Serious. Committed.

No working up to it, no 'wooing' or dating in the loosest sense of the word. They _were_ together.

And still, of course (as he knew he should get used to when it came to Janey), Sam didn't know what that really meant.

How would them being 'together' affect the dynamics of their already pretty passionate love affair? Would they talk now – would they actually get more emotional depth? Would they do stuff together? Alone? Sam and Janey had only ever been together in group situations (asides from their more recent exploits). Would they now have to do _couple-y_ stuff? Go on dates and such? Would Sam have to buy her flowers? Take her out to dinner?

Would Janey even _let_ him do that kind of romantic couple-y stuff?

Or would it be more of the same thing? Just… snogging. Which he very much enjoyed – of course he did – but then, if that was the case, what was even the point of them being officially together?

Sam supposed that meant they just couldn't snog other people anymore…

Not that he wanted to (or even had the choice).

Sam felt a lot of pressure. It was all moving too quickly. Like their whole sordid romance, it was too urgent, too rushed – like they were running out of time – like it was now or never. But maybe that was true. Maybe Janey was worried, and he too, that if they didn't seize the opportunity whilst they could – they didn't harness that passion as quickly as possible – it would just fizzle out. It would be over before either of them knew it.

Maybe, just maybe, that's all they were even supposed to be, Sam thought sadly. Just a wild flurry of passion and nothing more.

But Merlin, wouldn't it be worth it anyway?

She slept the whole train ride back to Kings Cross. Curled up along one side of the carriage with her head resting in his lap, Sam felt blissfully content as he absentmindedly ran a hand up and down her arm, like he was stroking a cat.

Rose, Taylor, Gwen, and Albus all looked disgruntled at being squashed up on one side of the carriage, whilst Janey peacefully stretched out over the other, Sam himself pretty much pushed up in the corner. But nobody complained. Least of all Sam.

"She's the heaviest sleeper I've ever seen," Taylor said, half out of endearment and half out of irritation.

"At least she doesn't snore," Rose mumbled, garnering a glare from her best friend.

"Why is she even so tired? That's so unlike Janey," Gwen mused. All eyes suddenly looked to Sam.

"What?" he asked in confusion, his hand abruptly stopping his stroking.

"You wore her out," Rose accused, snorting with amusement.

"How?"

"We don't want to know details," Albus groaned, "but believe me, we can take a wild guess."

Janey let out a sort of groan of protest then. Sam immediately recommenced his stroking. Janey, if she was indeed a cat, would have purred. Her head was warm on his thigh, not uncomfortable like he'd thought it might be after a while, but kind of reassuring. Familiar, almost, although God knows Janey's head had never been _anywhere_ in that region before.

"She's very tolerable when she's like this," Albus pointed out with a wicked smile.

"And very endearing," Taylor added.

"Mhmm," Sam agreed, without even really thinking about it. Everybody looked at him curiously, Rose with a sort of shy, knowing smile.

Sam blushed. He guessed it was weird for them to see him and Janey so openly affectionate. Well, him at least; it wasn't like Janey was really contributing much. But she was, he realised. She wouldn't have ever curled up with her head on his lap before. She wouldn't ever have looked so blissful and comfortable in his presence.

They were so used to seeing nothing but hatred. Nothing but arguing and yelling.

To be honest, it was weird for Sam too. _Janey was his girlfriend_ – a statement he was still struggling to wrap his mind around. They _were_ affectionate now. Well, not that they'd had much time to be. They hadn't even been officially together for twenty-four hours yet, and during that short-lived period of 'dating' they hadn't even been alone together, making the most of their time with the whole gang before summer separated them all and everything changed.

Sam hadn't even kissed her yet.

But after the train journey, he realised, _they_ would be forced to separate. They had spent almost every day in each other's company since returning from Rosewood (after the rocky first few days), and even though they were now an item, fate would be ripping them apart from each other.

Sam suddenly started to panic internally. Would that be a problem? Would that already create difficulties for their fresh new romance, complicating it before it even began? Janey might get bored, he feared. She might forget, after having some distance from him, that she even _wanted_ to be with him. It could all be purely circumstantial – this 'fancying him' and whatnot. Distance could perhaps lessen her affections for him. Distance could force her to realise she'd made a mistake in agreeing to be involved with him.

The train gave a sudden lurch. Janey stirred, still only semi-conscious, groaning in protest at the violent disruption, before nestling her head further up Sam's thigh. Sam ran a soothing hand from her elbow all the way to her shoulder, and then, even though it was difficult for him to bend quite like that, managed to plant a kiss atop her head.

He was sure he could see her smile.

And so he smiled too.

* * *

"Do you have a phone?"

"What?"

"A phone. You know – a mobile phone?"

"Oh," Sam mumbled. "Well, yeah, I think I've got some old, crappy one lying around from when I was younger. I never really used it though. I mean, why would I? I could only have been ten, it's not like I even had people to call or –"

"Sam," Janey interrupted. He obediently fell silent. Janey looked hesitant, shy even, as she asked, like a true Muggle, "Can I have your number?"

The two of them were stood alone amongst the bustling hordes of people on Platform Nine and Three Quarters. They'd said their goodbyes to all but each other, their close-knit group of the past month suddenly wrenched apart. Sam felt hollow at the thought of returning to his family. Or rather, at the thought of leaving Janey behind.

He didn't even know where she _lived_ , Sam realised, feeling like the worst boyfriend ever. He didn't know the slightest thing about her family or her background or where she came from. How easy would it even be for them to see each other over the course of the summer?

"I, ah, sure," Sam said. "I don't… actually… know it though," he admitted.

Janey just shook her head, laughing gently. "Alright, fine, I'll give you mine and you can… text me. Or, you know, whatever," she said dismissively.

Sam smiled too. "I will," he promised, despite not really knowing how he'd go about that. It was all well and good him having a mobile phone and a Muggle family, but he was severely out of touch when it came to Muggle technology. He'd barely used his phone, and he'd certainly never gotten round to actually texting anybody. He supposed he'd have to ask one of his siblings. Or even his mum.

"Do you have Facebook?" Janey asked, as she hastily scrawled something down on a scrap of parchment.

"Err…"

"I'll take that as a 'no,'" Janey teased.

Again, Sam felt out of touch. "Why _would_ I have Facebook?" he retaliated, not even entirely sure what it was. Some kind of social media website, he knew that. But again, Sam was so used to the wizarding world that he hadn't fully immersed himself in all this up and coming Muggle stuff.

"So you can change your status to 'in a relationship with Janey Davington," Janey replied like it was the most casual thing in the world, a playful edge to her voice.

Sam's heart seemed to skip a beat, his face lighting up. She was acknowledging they were in a relationship. It was real, it was really happening.

"Besides, _everybody_ has Facebook," Janey scoffed.

"I guarantee not one of our friends has," Sam said. "In fact, I guarantee not one of them even has a computer. _Or_ a phone."

"Yeah?" Janey asked, still scribbling. "That's no excuse for _you_ though. I'm assuming you have both."

"Well, yeah, but when I got to eleven I was shipped off to Hogwarts, wasn't I?"

"So?"

"So aren't you supposed to be thirteen when you're allowed Facebook?"

"Only if you play by the rules."

Sam smirked. "Which I'm assuming you don't?"

Janey looked up from her scribbling, her eyes twinkling. "Absolutely not."

"So you were… how old when you got Facebook?"

"Ten."

"Of course," Sam said, nodding to himself with amusement. "And the reasoning being…?"

"To keep tabs on my enemies."

She had such a perfectly straight face, and a casual demeanour to accompany it, that Sam wasn't sure whether she was joking or not. "I'm, err, I'm not _really_ up on what this Facebook stuff is for, but I thought it was more along the lines of, you know, keeping up with your _friends._ "

"Well," Janey said sweetly, "none of my friends have Facebook, do they?"

Sam frowned. "Well, no, not from Hogwarts. But what about your old Muggle friends? Your school friends."

Janey's expression was suddenly stony, her entire being looking incredibly uncomfortable. Sam was startled, not really sure how what he'd said had struck a nerve, but he sensed there was a story there. Eyes glassy, face pale, Janey swallowed a lump in her throat. "Text me," she ordered, shoving the scrap of parchment into his hand.

"Why can't we just use owls?" Sam asked in confusion, still caught off guard by her sudden change in attitude.

"Too messy," Janey insisted. "My dad will _flip._ "

 _Her dad_ , Sam noted to himself. Did that mean she only lived with her dad? Was there no mother in the picture? Divorced? Absent? _Dead?_

"Janey, where do you live?" Sam suddenly asked, aware that prying into the state of her family might be a bit too much.

She blinked in surprise. "London."

" _London?"_ Sam repeated in shock.

Janey nodded. "Why, where do you live?"

"Nottingham," he said sheepishly.

"Nottingham?" Janey repeated in shock, just as Sam had. "As in, like, up North?"

"It's not 'up North,'" Sam said irritably, "it's the Midlands."

Janey didn't look any less perturbed. "It's still in the bloody middle of nowhere! That's like, what, three hours away?"

Sam felt slightly uplifted at the fact that Janey seemed to put out by how much distance would be between them. "We're magical, Janey," he reminded her gently.

"So?"

"So we can travel _instantly_."

Janey looked sheepish at the reminder, perhaps embarrassed by her overreaction. "Right, yeah," she mumbled.

Sam still felt uplifted. So she wanted to see him then?

"Well," he gulped, that temporary feeling of lightness now heavy and grounding, "I guess we… should go." He knew his family would be eagerly waiting for him somewhere on the platform, and as much as he didn't want to depart from Janey, he knew he must.

Janey's eyes, if he wasn't mistaken, seemed full of sadness at such a declaration. "Yeah," she gulped too. "Yeah, you're right."

The two stood awkwardly on the platform for a while, Sam still tightly gripping the slip of parchment, neither of them looking at each other, wondering exactly how to say goodbye. A friendly nod of the head? A hug? A kiss, even?

Janey was scanning the crowds. Her gaze landed on something, or someone, and her face fell.

Sam immediately turned to where she was looking, but Janey grabbed at the front of his shirt, drawing his attention back. "What?" he asked in a panic.

"Nothing," she hurriedly replied. "I just, err… I just…" Whilst Janey struggled to think of a lie, Sam glanced back towards where she'd been looking. Janey grabbed him again, so forcefully that it actually hurt his neck. But before he could comment, or protest, or cry out in surprise, she hastily kissed him on the cheek.

Sam was blissfully surprised.

"Bye," Janey burst out before Sam could begin to make any reaction. And just like that, she was gone, hurling her trunk behind her so forcefully that it crashed into some unsuspecting passers-by as she hurtled through the hastily departing crowds.

Sam watched her go with an air of amusement, desperately craning his neck to see where she went. But the crowds were thick, with families reuniting all around. He caught a glimpse of a tall well-dressed man. _Incredibly_ well-dressed, he thought in awe – surely the only man on the platform in suit and tie. Was that Janey's _dad?_

But Sam knew he shouldn't pry. Instead he focused his attention back to the tiny bit of parchment he was still clutching. He unravelled it tenderly, revealing an eleven-digit number, a 'kiss' scrawled beneath.

He smiled, that warmth filling him once more. Grinning from ear-to-ear, slipping the parchment into his pocket, Sam hauled his trunk up from the ground, disappearing into the crowds to find his family.

* * *

 _She left in an instant, not sparing a second thought for me. She loved me, she said, but she couldn't be with him anymore, and I watched as my family fell apart. He didn't even fight for her, didn't even say he was sorry, or beg to be taken back._

 _Being Daddy's little girl, I stayed with him, and watched a new woman come and go every other week. My life was put on hold, my problems were not relevant, and my mother rarely made the effort to see me anymore – I was just the result of the awful mistake she'd made in marrying my father._

 _Finally, he married again, and I had a maternal figure in my life once more, but it was never the same. I was beginning to get difficult at this point, beginning to get fed up of being constantly pushed around. I had thought my parents' relationship perfect. I had never seen anyone as in love as I thought they'd been, but I was wrong. I resented my stepmum, but my dad adored her, naturally, and I was pushed aside to make room for her._

 _You can't begin to imagine the joy they felt when my Hogwarts letter came..._

* * *

"Daddy's not here then?" Janey said sarcastically.

"Mr Davington is occupied," the man responded with sympathy. "He sends his regards but he won't be returning for a few days, I'm afraid. He has business in Edinburgh."

"Whatever," Janey dismissed, rolling her eyes. "And the step-whore's unavailable?" she asked, suddenly nasty.

The man looked taken aback, though not by Janey's brash attitude. "No, Miss Davington," he said in surprise. "Lady Marlowe no longer, ah, resides within your household."

Janey's eyes widened. "What?"

"Lady Marlowe –"

"Oh, _stop it_ ," she ordered impatiently, "he's not even here. Talk to me how you would – how you _always_ have – when he's not around. I'm 'Janey,' and she's 'Sadie,' 'whore,' or 'crazy evil bitch.'"

The Davingtons' driver gave a polite nod of his balding head, struggling to suppress his smirk. "Very well, Miss" – he hesitated, then smiled – " _Janey._ "

The blonde girl nodded in approval, sharing the smile.

"Sadie and your father are no longer 'together,' as it were. She moved out several months ago, but I thought – I assumed – your father had informed you of this?"

"Ha," Janey scoffed. "Daddy doesn't tell me anything, least of all concerning _her_. Although I am _very_ interested in this revelation," she muttered, her eyes greedily lit up. She looked to her driver excitedly. "Ding-dong the witch is dead?"

He smirked at her choice of words. "Indeed. They filed for divorce in April, and she moved out almost immediately."

"For any particular reason?" Janey asked sweetly.

"I believe your father was unfaithful. He, ah, took a 'lady friend' on the yacht, without much discretion."

" _Excellent."_

"You'll be pleased to know he's going all-out on preventing her any access to any of your commodities."

"Meaning?"

"She won't be getting any money. No shares of the property or any of yours and your father's possessions."

Janey's already greed-lit eyes widened once more. "Well, _my_ day certainly just got better," she gleefully declared. "And about time too. That monster should only have been a two-month fling in the first place."

"You father cared very deeply for Lady Marlowe," the driver said humbly.

"Oh, please," Janey scoffed. "He didn't even know her middle name! And stop calling her a _lady._ She wasn't a lady – she didn't even have the title – she made that up. Everything about her was fake." She looked him pointedly in the eye. " _Everything."_

"Even still, they had a long marriage."

"A mistake from the start, in my opinion," Janey criticised in a low voice. "He should have known, after the mistake of my mother, that marriage wasn't for him. The Davingtons don't _do_ marriage. God knows, I won't," she muttered.

Her driver stole a glance at something in the distance. "The young gentleman," he said knowingly, "who accompanied you off the train."

Janey blushed.

"He's…?"

"A friend," she said fiercely.

"I see."

"But I don't want my dad to know," she said quickly, looking to him with wide eyes. "That Sam is… my friend."

"I see."

"Good," Janey gulped. "And Daddy is going to be gone for – how long did you say?" she asked, hastily changing the subject.

"He'll be back on Thursday."

"Okay."

The Davingtons' driver took hold of Janey's trunk, and together the two departed the platform to where the car was parked. Fortunately, living in London anyway, the drive would be short. Janey thought of the vastness of the house she'd be returning to. Though nowhere in comparison to the size of Hogwarts castle, it would feel impossibly large, she knew. Large, empty, and quiet, nothing but her own solitude to welcome her 'home.'

She slammed the car door a little too aggressively.

"Your father isn't a reflection of _all_ marriages," the driver piped up quietly, as they began their journey homeward bound.

"What?" Janey snapped in confusion, angrily staring out the window at the bustling London streets.

"Your fathers… _failings_ ," he said delicately, "as a married man, are not an indication of what is destined for you."

Janey was almost put out by such impertinence, even though she considered her family driver (Albert, she thought his name was) to be one of the few friends she had outside Hogwarts. If not the _only_ one. "Excuse me?"

"Janey –"

"Call me 'Miss Davington,'" she said frostily.

"Miss Davington," he politely corrected, "your father's commitment issues are not hereditary, per se. His lifestyle choices needn't be mimicked by yourself."

"I don't _mimic_ my father," Janey yelled. "It's not _him_. It's _us._ It's in our blood! And besides, I've no interest in deviating far from my family's failings. In fact, I'm going to be the only smart one – I'm not even going to set myself up for failure."

"No marriage?" he enquired.

"No marriage," she confirmed, spitting the word like it was something dirty. "You wanna know what happens when the Davingtons get married?"

"What?"

She continued to glare out the window, stubbornly folding her arms. "They get divorced."

* * *

The first day on her own struck Janey deeply.

A pitiful six months she'd been married to Sam. It was shameful, _embarrassing._ Even her father, with his two failed, laughable marriages, had exceeded her own. _Twice._ By a huge margin. What kind of marriage did that make hers, barely a blip of her father's shambles of a marriage?

A joke.

A _mistake._

And yet part of Janey, though she'd reveal it to no one but herself, couldn't find it within herself to regret even a single part of it. Not one second, no matter how desperately unhappy they'd both supposedly been. Because she knew, honestly and truly, that she had never been as happy as she had been in the brief period of time she'd been able to call herself Mrs Samuel Tyler.

Not that she'd _ever_ called herself that, she thought in disgust. She'd hated being referred to as 'Mrs' – it made her feel old – and she'd not even taken his surname. How could she, when she was so renowned by her maiden name?

 _Just as well_ , she thought. That, at least, made one aspect of her divorce slightly easier. She would be, as she had always been, Miss Janine Davington. And she knew now, as she always should have known, that she would remain as that for the rest of her life.

Marriage had been a mistake. Marriage had sent both Sam and Janey over the edge, no matter how glorious and fleeting that euphoric wedded bliss had felt at first. And she should have known. _Oh, how she should have known._

But Janey had been selfish, she acknowledged. She had so desperately wanted to be married to Sam. Not for the wedding, as he'd snidely insinuated only a month ago now, or the gossip, or the magazine cover.

But because she had deeply, soulfully, loved him.

And she still did.

* * *

 ** _Author's Note:_** _Italicised lyrics at the beginning and title inspiration from Paramore's 'The Only Exception.' Italicised extract in the middle from Chapter 72 'The Truth About Janey' from Rose and Scorpius: A Forbidden Love._

 _I hope the jumps between present and future aren't too confusing. I'm writing the story chronologically but throwing glimpses of the 'future' in every now and again just to provide a bit of dramatic interest. Sorry for teasing ;)_


	7. Somebody To You

**Chapter 7 – Somebody To You**

* * *

 _I used to ride around  
_ _I didn't wanna settle down  
_ _But now I wake each day  
_ _Looking for a way that I can see your face_

 _I've got your photograph  
But baby, I need more than that  
I need to know your lips_

 _Nothing ever mattered to me more than this_

* * *

Day one of the summer holidays, as a young, carefree couple, left each of them yearning for the other. It caught Janey off guard at first. She had become so familiar with that feeling of resenting him, and wanting to be as far away from him as humanly possible, that if felt odd to suddenly be craving his company.

Janey recognised now, though she'd be reluctant to admit it even to herself, that those feelings of resentment – that sense of anger and disgust – had never been aimed at Sam. It had been aimed at herself, out of frustration at the fact that she couldn't have him. And that she couldn't even admit that she, indeed, wanted him.

She had wanted the distance because being anywhere near him, and not having him in the way she so desperately wanted, destroyed her.

And now, she thought, wide-eyed and alone in that vast and empty house on The Bishops Avenue, she _had_ him. She had him exactly how she wanted him. Intimately, personally, _romantically?_

And yet she didn't, she further realised, punching a feather-stuffed pillow in frustration. He was three hours away in bloody _Nottingham_. And probably so caught-up in the excitement of being reunited with his family, that he wasn't even thinking about her or the screwed up bit of parchment with her lovingly-scrawled phone number.

Janey suddenly lurched towards her bedside table, heart racing. Within seconds, she had hold of the sleek silver phone she so craved when she was at Hogwarts. A hurried tapping of her passcode (her birthday), a desperate trawl through her inbox, and it was made immediately clear that he had not tried to contact her.

Janey slumped back down onto her bed with a heavy heart, letting the phone slip from her fingers and fall onto the carpet with a soft thud. It was nearing noon that day, not even twenty-four hours after having left him on the platform so abruptly.

She thought back to her hasty goodbye with a sense of melancholy longing. She wished she'd been more affectionate. She wished she'd hugged him, so she'd be able to memorise what it felt like to have his arms around her, and breathe in that musky scent his chest seemed to have whenever she nestled her head into it – something she could replay in her mind as she patiently counted down the minutes until she was with him once more.

Or kissed him. Not that rushed, emotionless peck on the cheek that she'd gone with, but really, _really_ kissed him. Maybe not quite so explicitly as they'd started to explore in the broom cupboards on the fifth floor (no, even though Janey wasn't shy about showing affection in public, she didn't think shoving her tongue down his throat and cupping his arse was something she wanted to do in front of reuniting families - Sam's and potentially hers included), but certainly more tender that the one she _had_ given him.

To memorise the softness of his lips as they grazed against hers, and the very slight stubble of his chin. Or the sweetness she could never be sure she actually tasted, or just imagined she did.

Or even _looked_ at him. One last, lingering gaze, a coy smile to accompany, before hurrying away.

But she had not. She had seen her driver, panicked, and fled without a single glance back.

Janey had not expected her father to personally pick her up from Platform Nine and Three Quarters. In the six years she'd been attending Hogwarts, he'd probably only been thrice. What was the point of having a driver otherwise?

In hindsight it had probably been better. To see his daughter with a boy – one whom she was affectionate with – might have riled Mr Davington. Janey was a 'Daddy's Little Girl' through and through, and she always had been. And though he'd not have been dissuaded by Janey having intimate relations with boys (given his own lifestyle, and the girl he knew his daughter to be), Janey felt oddly protective of Sam.

She wanted to keep him to herself, to cherish him. And maybe it was more. Maybe she wary, having always sought her father's approval, that Sam would not fit the bill. And if he didn't? If her father disapproved, or else didn't like him, would Janey be able to dismiss it all that easily?

For whatever reason, and she'd never felt this way before about any of her former flings, she knew it mattered to her what people thought of Sam. If people had disapproved of previous boyfriends (and oh, how they had), Janey had shrugged it off, probably even agreeing with them to some point. It had never dissuaded her. Why would it? It's not like she really cared for them – in two weeks' time they'd only be a name on her list. No problem.

But Sam was different. People not liking him – not approving him? Not thinking them compatible or well-suited? The thought made her anxious.

She was too naïve to realise why at that point.

So yes, maybe in hindsight it had been better that Mr Davington had not been there to meet his daughter in person, and potentially play witness to what had actually been a pretty un-affectionate goodbye. But the sight of her driver, well-uniformed and impossible not to notice, had sent fear shooting up through her body.

For whatever reason, Janey had not wanted Sam to know. But know what? That her family was wealthy enough to have a hired driver at their beck and call? That her dad was too occupied in his own affairs to meet his daughter on the platform in person?

Her life – her home life – she was not resentful of, nor was she ashamed, but the thought of revealing it in much depth to Sam made her feel uncomfortable.

Janey emitted an audible sigh as she replayed it all in her mind, still lying spread-eagled on that impossibly large bed. She felt lost without Sam, even though they were barely together. Only a month ago she'd still been insisting she hated him. In fact, come to think of it, even two days ago she'd still been trying to convince her friends she didn't care for him!

But that, at least, Janey understood about herself. Walls up. Constantly. She would never let herself be weak or vulnerable; she would never allow anybody direct access to the parts of her they could hurt. Nobody was getting in. Not without a tremendous amount of trust, the likes of which she'd never fully found in anybody.

And Sam was slowly trying to chip away at those walls.

It frustrated Janey. He was the complete opposite of her. He was very open, very liberal with his emotions, and in some ways it actually strengthened him to be so vulnerable – to pour himself into someone else. And he couldn't understand Janey's hostile, defensive attitude, and likely never would. It flattered her during the times it wasn't making her anxious. That he was so willing to know her on a deeper level, and not just physically use her like all those others, meant a lot to her.

But it was new to Janey, and it was too much. Nobody had ever wanted to delve beneath the surface before – never wanted to truly see her heart. It was too quick. She could not just, after seventeen years of building them up, let her walls down so easily. Nor was she sure she even wanted to.

And that only added to the frustration. Because, again, she was frustrated at nobody other than herself. _She_ was the difficult one; _she_ was the problematic one. It was cruel of her to snap and bite, and never let on to the truth when she had nobody but herself to blame. Why punish him for her own flaws? Flaws that she actually recognised? Acknowledged? _Understood?_

Janey scrabbled for the phone once more – anything to distract her from thinking about it all too much. But the sight of the screen, devoid of any new texts or a missed call, only made her heart sink again, brief hopes abruptly dashed.

Never before had she ever pined for such interaction with any of her former boyfriends. And even worse, she thought, feeling suddenly nauseous, never before had she ever been in that position. That position where she lacked control.

Janey had always, without fail, in all of her relationships, made sure the ball was in her court. She never, not once, gave the other the slightest bit of power to hurt her. She was the dominant half of the couple; she called the shots. It was she who established at what pace they took their relationship, and dictated every move. She controlled and manipulated it to be exactly how she wanted.

Because she could not run the risk of being hurt.

It helped that she hadn't ever really cared for any of these boys, but still. Short but passionate affairs is what she'd always sought. Cheap thrills to make her feel wanted and desired, and then she'd break them off quickly, a few months at most. No strings, no explanations, just a quick, clean severing of all bonds, in which she'd proceed to distance herself from her former, already on the prowl for her next.

No one could hurt her that way; she'd never hang around long enough to give them the opportunity. It was she who initiated these relationships, and she who broke them off. Nobody could reject her that way. Nobody could hurt her.

But that was no longer the case, she thought anxiously. It was she who'd given Sam her number, and he she was waiting on to make the next move. She was powerless. She couldn't reach out to him – it was up to him when (and if) he reached out to her. And what if didn't? What if, upon reflection, he'd realised what an awful mistake he'd made in asking Janey to be his girlfriend?

Or what if he'd forgotten? What if she featured so low on his list that he hadn't even spared a second thought to her since returning home, too caught up in the excitement of his life without her?

Or what if it was _revenge?_ What if none of it had been real, and he'd been playing her this whole time? Letting her get swept up in her emotions, desperately longing for him, himself earning the upper-hand, only to turn the tables on her and punish her for all those times she'd put him down?

Janey felt such a sudden and intense flurry of emotions that she very nearly scrambled off her bed in pursuit of an owl. _No_ , she ordered herself firmly, _you're just paranoid_.

Sam wasn't like that. Despite their past differences, he would never be that spiteful, even if upon reflection he was now doubting their short-lived relationship. He was a gentleman and he always had been. Even their dispute vis-à-vis Isabella and Henry Fontayne, in which they'd both maliciously succeeded in splitting the other up with their significant other (by far the most hostile and vindictive thing Sam had ever done to Janey), hadn't been nearly as cruel as the worries Janey was currently having.

But still, that uncertainty made her uneasy. As much as Sam didn't know anything about Janey, she didn't know anything about _him._ It had been her who'd so ungracefully thrown herself at him, after all, and she who'd constantly dragged him off for a snog…

His enthusiasm hadn't meant he'd _cared_ though. Sam was but a boy. And any hormone-fuelled, single, seventeen-year-old boy was hardly going to object to a bit of action, was he? Especially when Janey had offered it so willingly.

And yet he hadn't. He hadn't just taken what he wanted, like all those other boys. He had demanded more. He'd been reluctant to engage in nothing but mindless snogging without any additional depth; he'd pried, several times, into her heart. Unsuccessfully, of course, but he had. And it had been _him_ who'd asked her out. It hadn't mattered that Janey had been, at that very moment, wearing her heart on her sleeve with the intention of asking Sam out herself, because he'd done so before she even had the chance.

And it wasn't like she'd hinted at it. It hadn't been like he'd known in advance what she was planning on doing. He had made the decision by himself, putting himself out on the line even when there was a _very_ strong possibility she'd reject him. And that had spoken _deeply_ to Janey. That had flattered her, encouraged her, _overwhelmed_ her.

Janey reached one last time for the phone, resolving that, if there were no new messages, she'd lock the phone away and go and do something useful. Not that she was sure of what she'd do. It was all well and good having a house (arguably a mansion), as vast and luxurious as Janey was lucky enough to accommodate, but when it was devoid of human life other than her own pitiful self, what was the point?

There were gardeners, yes, a chef, a driver, several cleaners, all of whom would be somewhere about the house, but none of them were the kind of company Janey craved. At this point she'd even settle for _Sadie_.

The phone, of course, was blank. Janey sighed, pushed herself up from the bed, delicately placed it back in the drawer of her bedside table, and headed downstairs. It wasn't like she had any homework or anything to do. And though Janey was not a particularly productive person, she found if she was really going to be doing nothing, she at least wanted to do nothing in somebody else's company.

But not just anybody's company. Oh no, of course not. The only one she wanted to be with, whether they were doing something or nothing, was, of course, Sam. But Merlin knows what he was doing right then, three hours away in Nottingham.

Little did she know that Sam was furiously embarking on a mission to get hold of a new mobile phone, having discovered, to his great disgust, that his mother had thrown his away the previous summer without a second thought.

His family just couldn't understand his desperate need to obtain an object decidedly less impressive than a magic wand, and yet which he seemed to suddenly think was the most desirable and wonderful object one could possibly possess.

* * *

 _Janet?_ – the text read – _This is Sam._ _Please let me know if this is working, I don't understand how to use this thing._

Janey just stared in disbelief, not daring to believe the words on the screen were anything more than a hallucination. Day one of the summer holidays was over, and Janey had just about given up on obsessively checking her phone every five minutes, when all of a sudden a message from an unknown number had pinged up. In a similar manner, something seemed to have pinged in her heart.

Her thumb hovered over the keypad, suddenly stuck for words. Did she play it witty, casual, friendly, flirty? Her thumbs began to tap of their own accord.

 _Only my really close friends call me Janet. I'd stick with Janey ;)_

Only once she'd sent the message, and then debated whether or not she should have put 'kisses' at the end, did Janey begin to regret what she'd said. Sam was simple at the best of times – why couldn't she have just said _yes?_

A couple of minutes passed, in which Janey debated whether or not to send a hasty second reply, before a new message came in.

 _I didn't mean Janet, I meant Janet. JANET. Ok, it won't let me type Janet? Not Janet – JANET. I don't know how to make it say Janet, I'm sorry._

Janey made a noise so shrill and inhuman that her Russian White cat prowled into her room to investigate. She cocked her head inquisitively. Janey, grinning like an idiot, beckoned the cat to join her on the bed – an action she usually condemned.

"Dolly, look at this loveable idiot," she said excitedly, shoving the phone under the cat's nose. Dolly innocently pawed at the screen.

"Hey, no scratches," Janey teasingly scolded, sitting cross-legged and beckoning the confused creature to sit on her lap. She began typing back.

 _You probably have autocorrect on, but don't worry, that's easy to change. You can call me Janet for now, I won't hold it against you :P_

Janey hesitated, added a hasty _x_ at the end, deleted it, retyped it, and hit send before she could change her mind.

It took almost a full three minutes for Sam's reply to come in. Janey waited in breathless anticipation, running an absentminded hand through Dolly's fur. The latter simply purred, not seeming to mind the charged _buzzing_ that seemed to be shooting through Janey's body, unable to keep her legs still as she jiggled them up and down in excitement.

 _Can you do it for me? I'm reading the manual thing but I don't get it. Where's the settings button?_

Janey frowned. If this was the rate at which he typed messages, her patience was going to wear thin pretty quickly.

Another text came in almost immediately after: _xxx_

Janey audibly squealed, so much so that Dolly's head perked up in alarm. The blonde girl composed herself just enough to send back a message in no less than twenty seconds.

 _There is no 'settings button' exactly – it'll be on a menu somewhere, depending on what phone you have. (Don't worry, I won't even ask you to try and figure that out XD) But yes, I can change it for you :) I will need to have the phone with me though xxx_

Janey's heart was hammering in her chest as she pressed send. Had she just, even slightly, implied that she wanted to see Sam? It wasn't that she didn't, of course, but she didn't want to seem so desperate. After all, they'd only been separated for a day.

Two minutes passed this time.

 _Do I have to send it to you? xxx_

Janey's heart continued to hammer against her ribcage as she typed her response. _I meant, if I'm with you soon, I can do it for you then xxx_

 _Good,_ she praised herself. 'If I'm with you soon' – that didn't imply that she desperately _wanted_ to see him.

 _Will I see you soon?_ – Sam's response read. _As in, can I? I miss you xxx_

At which point Janey threw her phone across the room, emitting her loudest squeal yet. Dolly leapt off the bed, half in alarm, and half in pursuit of what she'd thought had been a treat Janey wanted her to retrieve. For a while Janey just sat there, feeling like a twelve-year-old schoolgirl whose dreamy crush had just said 'sup?' to, wrapping her arms around her legs and rocking backwards and forwards excitedly.

 _I miss you,_ he'd said. _I miss you xxx_

And then the phone began to ring.

" _I stay out too late,"_ Taylor Swift's muffled voice began to sing from across the room. Dolly leapt away in fright from where she'd been pawing at the phone, back arched and tail erect. _"Got nothing in my brain."_

Dolly hissed.

 _"That's what people say. Mhmm-mhmm. That's what people say."_

Janey scrambled from her bed, faster than she'd ever moved in her life, darting across the room.

 _"I go on too many dates. 'Cause I can't make 'em stay. At least that's what people say. Mhmm-mhmm. That's what people say."_

"Sorry, Dolly!" Janey yelled as she nearly tripped over the cat, diving to the carpet, her hand clasping around the cool metal casing of her phone.

 _"But I keep cruising. Can't stop, wont' stop –_ "

"Hello?" Janey practically screamed, still flat on her stomach, pressing the phone to her ear without even so much as checking who the caller was.

"Janey?" a startled masculine voice asked.

Janey blushed, realising how overenthusiastic her greeting must have seemed. Sam's voice sounded deeper on the phone, gruffer.

"Hi," she said breathlessly, heart racing (and not just because of her mad dash across the room). "I thought my name was 'Janet,'" she teased.

"What?"

Janey frowned at his confusion, and his decided lack of enthusiasm, feeling immediately stupid. Even though he couldn't see her, three hours away in Nottingham, Janey blushed. "I, ah, I just –"

"Sweetheart, are you okay?"

 _Sweetheart!?_

Janey pulled the phone away to stare at the screen with deep, immediate suspicion. 'DAD' was displayed on the screen in clear block letters. She almost threw the phone across her room again, though out of frustration rather than excitement. Instead she placed it back to her ear. "Dad?" she squeaked.

"Janey, what's going on?" the deep voice that Janey now identified as that of her father's asked with confusion.

"I thought you were someone else," she said meekly, now blushing for another reason. Feeling exasperated, she heaved herself up from the floor and went to sit back down on her bed.

"Who calls you Janet?" he asked with amusement.

"No one," Janey dismissed, "it was a joke."

"One of your gentleman callers?" he teased.

"No," Janey said through gritted teeth. "Mum, actually."

"You thought I was your mother?" Mr Davington asked, still deeply amused.

"Well," Janey replied in a scathing manner, "I have so many different parents these days, it's hard to keep track of who's who. So many different women in this house, coming and going, and –"

"Alright, alright," he interrupted, "I get the point. I thought you'd be happy about Sadie though?"

"Thrilled," Janey said coldly. "Though it would have been nice to have been told this in person. Or at least a lot sooner."

"I wanted to wait until it was all finalised," her dad insisted. "Divorces are messy, you know?

Janey just rolled her eyes.

"They take a lot of time and a lot of paperwork."

"Then why do you enjoy it so much?"

"Janey," he scolded, "come on, this is only my second divorce."

"You say that like you're expecting more."

"What can I say?" he protested. "I'm a sucker for a pretty face."

"With a chest like Sadie's I'm surprised you ever saw her face," Janey said sarcastically. Her dad just chuckled from the other end of the line. "Did you want something?" she asked, now irritable at her father's seemingly pointless interruption.

"Just wanted to check up on my favourite girl."

"Sadie's not here."

"Oh, come on, Janey, Sadie's _never_ been my favourite girl, and certainly isn't now. So tell me, did you get back alright? Are you back at the house?"

"Dad, I came home two days ago…"

There was a pause. "Wait, really?"

"Yes," Janey said coolly. "I suppose 'Edinburgh time' has you all disoriented, doesn't it?"

"Janey, please, love, I'm under a lot of stress right now. I've got so much work going on right now; these little details just slip my mind. But you're alright, yeah?"

"Yes," she said reluctantly. "I'm fine. And you're coming back on Thursday, right?"

"Ah," Mr Davington said. "About that…"

"Daddy, are you kidding me?" Janey demanded.

"Listen, love, it's taking longer than I thought, but I'll only be here a week tops, I promise. You can look after yourself until then, I know you can."

Janey just scowled. It wasn't the 'looking after herself' part that she was so perturbed by. "And what, exactly, are you even doing that's so demanding?" she spat.

"Business stuff, Janey. Computer stuff. I could explain it you but you wouldn't understand."

"Is 'computer stuff' code for screwing around with leggy, twenty-something-year-old blondes?"

" _Janey."_

"What?" she innocently asked.

"There aren't any leggy, twenty-something-year-old blondes in Edinburgh, believe me. I really am working."

"Just so long as I don't come home with another step-whore," Janey mumbled.

" _Janey._ " When she made no response Mr Davington sighed from the other end of the phone. "How was school?" he asked meekly. "Did you have a good year? Get up to anything exciting?"

 _Oh, tonnes,_ Janey thought to herself. _I snuck out of the school with a group of my friends, embarked on a life-threatening mission, met a dodgy outlaw on the run in a creepy, cursed forest, who threatened to kill us, battled countless dark wizards whilst trying to defend my friend from getting assassinated, and was imprisoned in a cell for twelve hours and held as a hostage._

"It was alright, yeah."

"That's my girl. You get good grades?"

"Of course. And I invented a sort of magical instant messaging using parchment and enchantments, which I've been told has the potentiality to revolutionise communications in the wizarding world and will likely garner me fame, riches, and success if I pursue it further."

There was another slight pause. "That'll be my influence, that will," Mr Davington chuckled smugly. "You got your mothers looks and my brains."

Janey pursed her lips, offended for two reasons. Firstly, by the implication that she in any way looked like her mother. Other than their eyes and hair colour, that was far from true, and Janey's father was well aware of this. Janey's mother was a blonde bombshell, the likes of which Janey's father seemed to favour, and though Janey had since blossomed, her struggles with self-image, which had taunted her during her childhood, still persisted. She didn't hold a candle to her mother, and never would.

Secondly, by the casual disregard of what a huge accomplishment Janey had actually achieved.

"Speaking of inherited traits," Janey moved on frostily, "I found something rather interesting just a few weeks ago."

"Oh yeah?"

"A girl with my genetics. _Your_ genetics. And that's very suspicious, don't you think?"

Mr Davington just snorted, baffled by such a comment. "Janey, love –"

"My half-sister, Daddy," Janey interrupted in a growl. "My _half-sister."_

"Janey, love," he tried again, sounding amused, "you don't _have_ a half-sister. I'm sure whatever 'genetics' you're talking about are just a coincidence."

"Daddy, don't lie to me, Bobbin told me everything. Jinx – Juliette Capella – is my half-sister. _You_ had an affair shortly before I was conceived, and you never thought to tell me! I've been with this girl at school for _six_ years now. I've _hated_ this girl!"

"Janey, I honestly don't know what you're talking about, and I don't find this at all funny. I've only ever had one daughter – one child – and that's you. I'll admit I slept around whilst your mother and I were still together, with several women, but you're my only child."

"Are you suggesting my headmistress is a liar?"

"I'm suggesting your headmistress is misinformed."

"So you never slept with a Metamorphmagus?" Janey asked snidely, her heart thrumming in her chest.

Although she had indeed resented Jinx over the past couple of years in particular, citing her as her Slytherin nemesis, Janey had grown somewhat fond of her during their twelve-hour imprisonment. Something had changed between them, as they'd come to realise they weren't all that dissimilar.

And after Bobbin's confession to them shortly after, it had been made apparent just how similar they really were.

They'd barely had time to embrace their new-found sisterhood since that revelation.

"A what?"

"Someone who can change their appearance at will," Janey explained. "She probably had crazy-coloured hair – that seems to be a favourite with them."

"Janey, I've been with a lot of women. Do you honestly expect me to remember each and every one of them and their 'crazy' hairstyles?"

"Look," Janey sighed, "we can talk about this later, alright? It doesn't matter. I've lost a stepmother, I've gained a half-sister – this family moves too much for me to keep up."

"Yes, but you _don't_ have a half-sister. It's probably just someone trying to scam us for money."

"Whatever," Janey dismissed, not in the mood to argue it now. She knew, somehow, on what felt like a soulful level, that what Professor Bobbin had confessed in the aftermath of the battle at Rosewood was one hundred percent true, no matter how reluctant she might have been herself to believe it. It felt _right_.

"Alright then, sweetie, I'll talk to you soon. Be good. No parties!" he teased. "And no boys!"

Janey hung up without so much as a goodbye, the mention of 'boys' dragging her back to the situation at hand. Hurriedly checking her inbox, and now furious with her father's interruption, she saw a new message from Sam.

 _Ok, I realise that was a bit forward, I'm sorry. The others were talking about going down to the beach tomorrow though – the usual lot, and maybe the Slytherins – but I told Rose that I'd tell you so she doesn't have to send her owl out. Let me know what you think. Are you free? xxx_

Janey groaned, slumping back down onto her bed once more. Dolly had come over to investigate, and began gently nudging her. Because of the impromptu phone call, Janey had gone mysteriously silent for ten minutes following Sam's request to see her, and given that her responses were, and had been, ridiculously quick until that point, it gave the impression to her poor boyfriend that she had been intimidated by such an insinuation, and had been reluctant and uncertain of how to respond.

And unlike normally, Janey actually _hadn't_ been intimidated by Sam's forwardness. She'd been ecstatic by his last message, and now it just looked like she wasn't keen at all. She'd already sent Sam some pretty confusing mixed-signals throughout their recent companionship, and now she'd furthered that completely unintentionally.

But maybe the beach would be better, she thought. Perhaps it would be less daunting for the new couple to be reunited in the company of their friends, as this was all still pretty new to them. And it _would_ be kind of fun to take a trip down to the coast.

 _I would love to_ , she said simply, deciding it was better to just gloss over the mishap with her delayed response. _Let me know the details xxx_

Dolly began purring as Janey soothingly ran her fingers through her fur, girl and cat feeling as content as the other.

Sam and Janey continued texting for the entirety of the day. Partially (the smaller part) because it took Sam so long to reply, and partially (the much larger part) because there was nothing either of them would rather be doing.

As Janey settled down into her bed that evening, Dolly curled up beside her, she found her heart flutter at the thought of seeing Sam face-to-face again. It had been two whole days since she'd last seen him, and yet it felt like an eternity.

One final text buzzed in, just before her eyelids fluttered shut, a smile of bliss on her face, and her heart swelling with what she could only describe as euphoria.

 _Goodnight Janet, sweet dreams xxx_

* * *

 _ **Author's Note:** Italicised lyrics and title inspiration from The Vamps' 'Somebody To You' ft. Demi Lovato_

 _Oh, and with a shout-out to Taylor Swift's 'Shake It Off' in the middle there, but of course XD_


	8. Cool For The Summer

**Chapter 8 – Cool For The Summer**

* * *

 _Got my mind on your body and your body on my mind  
_ _Got a taste for the cherry, I just need to take a bite_

 _Don't tell your mother  
_ _Kiss one another  
_ _Die for each other_

 _We're cool for the summer_

* * *

For any normal band of teenage misfits, a trip all the way down to Sandbanks would have seemed impractical. Bournemouth, though beautiful, was nowhere near where any of them lived, so spread out all over the United Kingdom as they were. But with the aid of magic, and near-instant transportation, what should have been a gruelling and complex journey South for them all, was blissful, easy, and practically stress-free.

Oh yes, magic certainly had its perks.

Janey was ecstatic. Not by the prospect of the beach – which she loved, having spent her whole life in the bustling city of London – but at seeing her new beau once more. It still felt surreal for her to think of Sam like that. Not even as her boyfriend, but just in a generally positive light, the likes of which she was sure she'd never experienced.

She just wanted to _be_ with him, she realised. To be in his company, even without interaction – just to be near him. Janey felt like she'd taken it all for granted. All those years she'd bickered with Sam, turning her nose up at him or else just being bitter, she should have been cherishing those moments. She should have appreciated his company, now she knew how truly she craved it.

But it had been different circumstances, she reminded herself. She only felt that way now because she cared for him – which, back then, she hadn't quite done to the same degree. No, everything was different now. Everything had changed.

Janey was barely listening to Rose as they made their way along the boardwalk, the gloriously golden sun bearing down on them, the gentle crash of the ocean's waves playing like melodies in the background. Janey felt light, warm, and happy, and she knew it had nothing to do with the sea air, or the beautiful surroundings.

"I brought a bikini _and_ a swimsuit," Rose was anxiously explaining. "It's a nice bikini, don't get me wrong – very modest and chic – a kind of 1950's style with red and white polka dots. And it's high-waisted, like, you can't even see my bellybutton, and there's a bow round the neck. And it's not like I'm _ashamed_ – there's nothing to hide – but I still wonder if it's just too… out there, you know? But then if I _do_ go with the swimsuit, it's kind of like, well, like I _am_ trying to hide something. Like I _am_ ashamed. So it's –"

"Rose," Janey eventually interrupted, only just emerging from her own bubble of euphoria to tune into what Rose was saying, "what the hell are you going on about?"

With Janey still being underage (she wouldn't turn seventeen until July), and therefore still unable to use magic without legal repercussions, the easiest way for her to travel from London to Dorset was by side-along apparition. Rose (having already turned seventeen) had apparated to Janey's house to meet her, before apparating the two of them down to the southern coast, where they were now trying to locate the rest of the group, whom they'd planned to meet there.

Janey had been so caught up in the excitement of what it would be like when she first laid eyes on Sam again, the sun on his back, the gentle summer breeze ruffling his hair, that she'd barely been paying attention to Rose's 'bikini vs. swimsuit' dilemma.

"I want to wear the bikini!" Rose cried out. "I do, I really do."

"Then wear the damn bikini, what's the big deal?" Janey scathed, using her hand to shield her eyes from the sun, as she desperately searched for the others amongst the beach-dwellers and holiday-makers.

Rose went silent by her side, cheeks turning the same shade as her 1950s-style bikini. "Well, _you_ _know_ ," she mumbled. "It's so… it's just…"

Janey turned to stare at her with incredulity. "Rose, you've got _nothing_ to be ashamed of. You're tall and slim and beautiful, and you _know_ that."

"But –"

"And by the sounds of your '1950s' bikini," she scoffed, "you'd literally be showing only two more inches of skin than you would be in the swimsuit anyway. You'll probably have the classiest, most reserved bikini on this whole beach! No one's going to ogle you; no one's going to, I don't know, see anything they shouldn't – something you should be embarrassed by!"

"Well, yeah, but –"

"And you'll be with _us_ ," Janey pointed out. "We're your friends, your roommates, your _cousins_ – it's not like you're parading around in front of random strangers. It's not like any of us are going to be put out by the sight of your two inches of skin!"

But Rose still didn't look reassured. In fact, she looked even more embarrassed, still furiously blushing.

Sure, Rose was a shy girl at the best of times, but Janey thought it through in her mind with amusement. Honestly, what was Rose so embarrassed by? _Who_ was she so embarrassed by? Taylor, Gwen, and Janey herself had shared a room with Rose for six years now, dressing and undressing in front of each other care-free, and Janey was certain Rose wouldn't be embarrassed by Ebony.

James and Albus, as her cousins, obviously weren't going to be perturbed by a bikini-clad Rose, nor would she by them seeing her, surely. So who did that leave, Janey thought. Sam and Mason?

Well, sure, Mason was older and it wasn't like Rose knew him overly well, but still, for the kind of fuss Rose was making over it, you'd have thought she intended to go streaking in front of him. And Mason was one of them – why would he care whether Rose's midriff was on display? They were _friends._

And Sam?

Well, Janey had no doubt Sam would likely enjoy Rose in her 1950s-style bikini, and she wouldn't deprive him of that. _Just so long as he was more taken by bikini-clad Janey._

And besides, Janey knew Rose couldn't care less what Sam thought of her nowadays – romantically, emotionally, whatever. Nor did Janey want to dwell on it for too long.

So the question remained: who, exactly, was Rose so worked-up about potentially seeing her in a bikini?

"Oh my God," Janey exclaimed, realisation instantly dawning. She shook her head, gently smirking, angry at herself that it had taken her so long for the penny to drop. Oh, it was _obvious._ "Oh my God, it's Scorpius!" she said triumphantly. "It's Scorpius! _Of course._ Sam _told_ me the Slytherins were coming! He told me –"

"Janey, cut it out," Rose hissed, head whipping around in mortification that someone might have overheard.

But Janey couldn't stop grinning. "It is, isn't it?" she pressed. "Scorpius is here, isn't he?"

Rose had pursed her lips, refusing to look at Janey, intently focusing on looking straight ahead as they continued down the boardwalk. "No," she mumbled. "I don't know."

"Aww," Janey teased, "Rose is embarrassed that her no-labels-but-for-all-intents-and-purposes-boyfriend is going to check out her scantily-clad bod for the first time!"

Rose just rolled her eyes. "Not _scantily-clad_ ," she mumbled. "It's just a bikini."

"Exactly!" Janey exclaimed. "It's not like you're parading around in front of him stark naked, or even in your undies or anything. You're at the beach, you've got your 1950s polka dot bikini – heck, he won't even see your bellybutton!"

The edges of Rose's mouth curled up ever so slightly.

"Rose, honestly, what are you even worried about?" Janey asked kindly. "It's Scorpius, alright? I'm pretty sure he's into you for more than just your body. And honestly, like, as I said before, you're tall and slim and beautiful – you've got nothing to be _ashamed_ of."

"Yeah, but it's just awkward, isn't it?" Rose protested. "It's feels so… intimate." She stole a shy glance at Janey. "Aren't you, you know, nervous about Sam seeing you in a bikini?"

"No," Janey answered with speed and ease, only once the word had left her lips actually thinking about it properly. Janey had no qualms about displaying her body for all to see – they were at the beach, after all, it was only normal – but she hadn't considered what it meant for her and Sam.

Just a few scraps of cloth shielding her from his keen eyesight – that's what the situation would be. Her thighs, her midriff – most of her body, in fact – would be on full display for him, revealing what had only been seen by a wandering mind up until then. It would be almost like she was wearing nothing but her underwear before him.

Janey suddenly felt taken aback.

It was not that she was embarrassed or ashamed of displaying her body in such a revealing way, but similar to Rose's predicament, she was aware that it would be vastly _intimate_. It was one thing to huddle up to Sam by a fireplace, exploring each other's mouths and, to some extent, their fully-clothed bodies, but to stand before him almost _nude?_

There were connotations. Even in the innocent context of the beach, surrounded by their close group of friends, they would be crossing a huge boundary.

But opposing that, Janey thought wickedly, she'd be getting to see Sam semi-nude too. She would see his _nipples_.

"Rose, just wear the bikini," Janey ordered, ending the debate. They were practically young adults, having a nice time at the beach with their close friends – there was no reason any of them need feel self-conscious.

"Okay, fine," Rose gulped. She squinted at something in the distance and then stopped suddenly, face pale and eyes wide. "Oh my God, he's there."

Janey stopped too. "What?"

"He's there."

"Who?"

"Right there."

"What?"

" _Scorpius is right there."_

Janey turned to where Rose was looking and rolled her eyes. Sure enough, in the distance, they could just make out the whitish-blond hair that could only belong to Scorpius Malfoy. There was a group of them down on the beach. Janey could see the glint of James and Taylor's glasses, and Gwen's dark skin, knowing immediately that it was their friends.

Her heart skipped a beat. Was Sam there?

Rose had frozen by her side. " _Rose_ ," Janey groaned. "Come on, what is your problem? It's just _Scorpius_. You've spent the past month constantly in his company –"

"Not _constantly_ ," Rose mumbled in protest.

"– and you used to go out with him, for goodness sake. You've _never_ been this awkward around him!"

"But it's different now," Rose said weakly. "It _is_ awkward between us. It's like, before it was fine because we were together, and then it was fine because I _hated_ him, and we knew where we stood. But now I… _don't_ hate him," she gulped, "and we're not together. But we're not friends, and we're not enemies. We're not _anything_."

Janey wanted to roll her eyes again out of frustration. She had little interest in listening to Rose's naïve and whiny struggle with regards to where she and Scorpius stood. She'd been so long separated from Sam (four days!), and every second Rose spent dawdling around, the further it delayed their reunion.

He was down there on the beach, she was sure, right in her grasp. So close and yet, because of Rose's freak-out, so annoyingly far away.

"We're at the beach having fun," Janey snapped. "Isn't that what you told him you wanted? Just something light and casual and fun – no labels or anything?"

"Yeah," Rose agreed.

Janey threw up her hands in exasperation. "Then what's the problem? Honestly, Rose, just stop thinking about it too much. Just _enjoy_ it. Talk to him, hang out with him – just _be._ "

(Because Merlin knows that's all Janey wanted to do, but with Sam).

"Yeah, but –"

"It's only going to be awkward and difficult if you make it like that!" Janey yelled, finally at the end of her fuse. "Get over it, Rose, and march your arse over there _right now_."

Rose looked sulky and embarrassed in response, but she should have known she wouldn't get any sympathy from Janey. "Fine," she sighed.

Janey looked pleased. "Thank you," she said sarcastically, and the two of them continued their walk down to the beach. Janey's heart was hammering in her chest. As much as she mocked Rose for her worries over Scorpius, she herself felt some trepidation over her imminent reunion with Sam. Last time she'd seen him had been when she'd hastily ditched him on the platform.

What if the passion was gone? The euphoria? What if was just awkward between them now? Or even worse, what if they just found each other boring? Or started to grow resentful of each other again?

The closer they drew to the group, the clearer everybody came into focus. Nobody had seen them yet. Janey felt anxious.

James was there, Ebony by his side, along with Albus, Taylor, Gwen, and Mason. Scorpius was there, of course, accompanied by fellow Slytherins, Albireo and Jinx. The latter whom was donning bubble-gum pink hair, impossible to miss.

 _Jinx_ , Janey thought with a lurch, as she recalled what her father had said to her on the phone the day before. She had barely spoken to her supposed half-sister since they'd been imprisoned in Rosewood, not quite at ease with each other and the whole revelation. How would things change between them after what Bobbin had confessed?

But Janey couldn't be too caught up in seeing Jinx again, because someone else caught her eye, forcing any other thoughts from her mind in an instant. Lightly tanned skin, brown hair slightly curling in the salty air, standing tall and casual with his back to her, shoulders looking far broader than she remembered, was –

"Sam!"

Janey clasped a hand to her mouth in horror. She had not meant to yell his name, especially considering she and Rose were still a fair distance away.

But like a dog, Sam whipped around at the sound of his name, the others all looking up at the sound of Janey's voice too, and breaking out into smiles as they saw the two girls approaching.

"Alright!" James yelled excitedly. "Whole gang together again!"

As the others tried to greet her, and Rose too, Janey found she was focused on only one. Sam's smile could melt chocolate, she thought, with dimples as deep and defined as they were, eyes lighting up to match. And then she scolded herself once she'd realised what a disturbingly soppy thing that was to think.

 _Pull it together, Janey_ , she growled internally. _It's just Sam._

But that didn't stop her from running to him, like a replay of their first kiss in Rosewood Manor. Only this time she didn't kiss him, nor did she throw herself into his arms. Well, not quite. She _did_ throw herself at him, but with her feet still firmly planted on the ground.

"Hi," he said breathlessly, eagerly taking her into his arms without even the slightest hesitation. Regardless of the fact that all their friends were subtly watching, and regardless of the fact that he and Janey were still pretty uncertain when it came to affection.

His arms were strong. They felt safe, and oddly familiar to Janey, and yet also completely new. There was something warm between them as they embraced, skin tingling wherever it graced each other, like electricity charging between them. Like _magic._

But this was the first time they'd hugged, Janey came to realise. They'd _embraced_ before, sure – every time they snogged, they were wrapped in each other's arms, and there had been that beautifully intimate night in the armchair, of course – but they hadn't actually hugged. A simple, pure hug, her head pressed against his chest, and his arms wound around her waist, both relishing the warmth and the comfort the other offered.

Sam had nestled his chin into the top of her head, silky blonde tendrils of hair tickling his nose. She smelt as sweet and fragrant as he'd been dreaming about over the past few days, finding their separation confusingly agonising. How had he once found _being_ with her agonising, he thought in alarm? How could he have possibly craved _distance_ from her, when every second of every day he was now constantly longing for her?

One final squeeze on her part, affectionately tightening her arms around his ribcage, which he gladly reciprocated, and the reunited lovers finally broke apart. Janey kept her hands on his hips, loose and playful as she stared up at him, eyes and smile both shining. She could see, over Sam's shoulder, James and Ebony watching them both like proud parents, Gwen and Mason looking indifferent, Albus looking bored, Taylor looking envious, Jinx and Albireo not even paying attention, and Rose and Scorpius stealing shy, awkward glances at each other, as though wondering whether they should be greeting each other more affectionately than they apparently had.

Janey ignored them all, her attention only on those deep chocolate irises she'd become so familiar with over the past month. "Hi," she greeted back, equally as breathless. No dream version could ever come close to Sam in the flesh.

Not that she'd been dreaming of him.

Of course not...

"I, ah, I've m–" Sam coughed, trying to backtrack. "I... It's good to see you again."

Janey felt a twinge of annoyance at his backtrack. Not at him – but her. Miscommunication had led him to believe him being too sentiment – expressing longing for her, or rather solemnity when she wasn't there – freaked her out. That it was a step too far. That it made her uncomfortable.

But the truth was that she had _loved_ it when he'd texted her that he missed her. It had made her feel… wanted. But not in the way she was used to. It had felt personal, and meaningful, and _real._

"I missed you too," she whispered back with sincerity, even though he hadn't actually said it.

Sam looked pleasantly surprised. Taken aback, but delighted nonetheless. Janey thought it endearing.

"Let's get this party started!" James declared excitedly, disturbing the reunions, both tender (Sam and Janey), and awkward (Rose and Scorpius).

* * *

It was a beautiful day by all accounts. Never once did the sun dip behind ominous-looking clouds (very peculiar for a British summer), nor did the dynamics of the group ever fall prey to old tensions. Rosewood had changed them; the Slytherins and Gryffindors felt perfectly at ease with each other.

Both James and Sam were not only tolerant of Scorpius Malfoy, but actually found his presence unexpectedly pleasing. Maybe it was because they both felt at peace. James was ecstatically happy with Ebony, whilst Sam was ecstatically happy with Janey – why let old conflict come between that?

Jinx and Janey too, though still not completely at ease with both their new friendship and their new sisterhood, were no longer engaged in the petty catfight of days gone by. And even though that was _long_ gone anyway, Rose and Ebony were on truly good terms.

For the first time, there was harmony amongst all.

"Jam," James suddenly announced.

Evening was starting to descend on the beach, painting the already beautiful landscape with a charming, almost romantic mystique. It had been a fun day, light-hearted and carefree, just eleven friends on the beach, free of the trauma, turmoil, and tragedy of everything they'd only so recently endured. Most of the Muggles had left by that point, but the eleven remained, all lounging around on the sand in a group. (All except for Rose and Scorpius who had disappeared a while ago, though who knew where to…)

Sam was led out besides James, with Janey lying perpendicular to him, her head resting on his bare chest. It was weirdly comfortable. Not to mention the fact that he had a cracking view of her bikini-clad chest, (which he may or may not have been unabashedly staring at behind the guise of his sunglasses).

Janey had a nice body. Very nice indeed. With curves he'd only subtly been introduced to. You'd not have expected it, looking at such a small frame at a glance. And yet, even though bodily she had nothing to be discouraged by anyway, the thing he found sexiest was her confidence.

Sam had been keeping his eye on Rose and Scorpius, purely out of curiosity. They were not at ease with each other. There was shy, awkward tension, both of them longing for something more intimate and personal – a closeness they were used to – but not knowing how to approach it after everything that had so dramatically transpired. The early seeds of romantic uncertainty, the likes of which Sam was all too familiar with.

But Janey was different. Sam had been worried, knowing what he was like, and also knowing what she was like, that they'd have been caught up in the same trap as Rose and Scorpius. He'd expected it.

Although not quite to the same degree, Sam and Janey were not so different from the infamous couple. They too had a dramatic history; they too were new and uncertain about this sudden shift in their relationship. And as a romantic, Sam didn't want to mess it up. He didn't want to push Janey too far, nor did he even feel completely at ease around her just yet. He wasn't James – he couldn't just exude that confidence – that arrogance – in the charismatic way he did.

But if Sam was a hopeless a romantic, just as Rose and Scorpius were, Janey fit into whatever category James did. She had no qualms about physically interacting with him – that hug that _she_ had happily initiated. She had no qualms about stripping down to her bikini in front of him, like it was the most casual thing in the world for her to reveal her near-naked body to him, nor being embarrassed and shy about _him_ whipping his shirt off (which he had only done so tentatively, and following James' lead – and besides, everybody had been more intrigued by Scorpius removing his shirt and unintentionally revealing the tattoo that only Rose had been aware of).

She had been fun and playful around him all day. Even when she'd (reluctantly) let him drag her into the sea and then tried to drown him for getting her hair wet.

And now she was there, with her head on his chest, like it was normal and casual, and as though Sam's heartbeat wasn't wildly racing.

No, she was confident alright. She was certainly the dominant one when it came to their relationship, but Sam probably thought that was for the best. Merlin knows he'd only screw it up if they left it up to him to try and set the pace.

Sam decided to channel some of that confidence. He extended his hand along the sand, lightly brushing his fingers against hers. To his delight, Janey took his hand without even the slightest hesitation, their fingers locking through each other.

It was Jinx who responded to James, herself lying in a similar position with her on-again-off-again boyfriend, Albireo. "What?" she scoffed.

"Jam," James repeated calmly. "It sounds better than Samey. Or Saney, or something."

"And what the hell is that supposed to mean?" Jinx demanded.

Even Ebony was staring at him like he was deluded.

James remained as calm and casual as before. "Sam," he explained, "and Janey." Both Sam and Janey whipped their head to the side to stare at him. " _Jam._ "

"Excuse me?" Janey asked, lowering her sunglasses.

James rolled his eyes. "James and Ebony," he stated, indicating to himself and Ebony. " _Jebony._ Janey and Sam" – he indicated to the couple in question – " _Jam._ " He leant back on his elbows looking proud of himself.

"What," Taylor snorted, "like a couple name?"

'Jebony' was the term the group sometimes used, to refer to James and Ebony as one being – which, now they were married, they kind of were. It had actually been Piper who'd branded them with the name – a rogue girl they'd briefly met on their Rosewood mission.

"Exactly."

"James, we use that name as a joke," Taylor pointed out. "People don't _actually_ have 'couple names.'"

"Tell that to Brangelina," Janey snorted under her breath.

"Who?"

"Never mind," she sighed. "And don't ever call us that," she said aggressively, scowling at James.

But James wasn't listening. He was excitedly murmuring to himself, "Do you think Rose and Scorpius would be ScoRose or Rosius?"

Janey fully removed her sunglasses then, turning her head against Sam's chest to look at him, hands still clasped. "Can we go somewhere?" she asked, a slight edge of desperation to her voice.

Sam removed his sunglasses too, lifting his head in surprise, only just realising how dark it was actually getting. "Err… sure."

They were at the beach though – where exactly did she want to go? The toilet? And why did she need him to go with her – that's what the girls were for.

But Janey was already clambering to her feet. James stopped his abrupt pondering of whether 'Jinxio' was the best mashup of Jinx and Albireo, to look at them like he was offended, Sam also getting to his feet.

Taylor got there first though. "Where are you going?" she snapped.

"None of your business," Janey snapped in response, reaching into her bag for a cardigan. Sam watched with great disappointment as she put it on, covering the sight he had so been enjoying looking at all day. He supposed he should put a T-shirt on too; it was starting to get cold.

"But we're going to make a campfire," James whined.

"We'll be back," Sam assured him, pulling a T-shirt on.

Janey neither confirmed nor denied, but took his hand and pulled him away from the group. She didn't say anything as she marched him away, stubbornly refusing to look back at the others, who she knew were all watching them with great interest.

"Where are we going?" Sam asked after a while, as nothing obvious came to mind from the direction in which Janey was taking him. They were nearing a rockface, the rest of the group now only small blobs in the distance.

"I don't know," Janey confessed in an apologetic voice. "I just… didn't want to be around everybody. I just" – she gulped – "wanted to be with you. For a bit."

Sam guessed it had something to do with them all openly referring to the two of them as a couple. Even though it was true, it was still early days, and Merlin knows Janey struggled with such fast-paced commitment. Sam wondered if this was the first relationship she'd actually been emotionally-invested in – the first serious one. _Was_ she emotionally-invested in him, he wondered. Could that possibly be true?

They came to a stop once they'd reached the rockface. Janey wrapped her arms around her body like she was hugging herself. Sam wanted to wrap his own arms around her. In the distance they could see gently burning embers, and were both reminded of that night alone in the common room.

"Are you cold?" Sam asked gently.

"No."

"Can I hug you anyway?"

Janey broke out into a grin that matched Sam's. She didn't respond to him verbally, but gladly went into his arms, much more tender than when she'd thrown herself at him when she'd first arrived.

But the interaction was similar – strong, safe, and oddly familiar. She was the perfect height, Sam realised, to rest her head against his chest, and for her arms to wind around his waist. And even though they weren't particularly cold, they both now felt reassuringly warm. Janey's hair had a slight sea salt aroma.

"It's weird being home," Sam murmured, the two of them still embracing. "Not being around everybody all the time. Not being able to just come down into the common room and, you know, see all you guys there."

"I miss it too," Janey confessed. "Home just… isn't the same."

Sam felt a lurch. He wanted to ask more – about her home, her family, everything. Did she have any siblings? He didn't think she did but he couldn't be sure. How many people resided in her house? Did she have any pets?

"Have you been busy?" he asked instead.

Janey tensed slightly. "Not… greatly," she gulped, and he could sense she didn't want to talk about it for whatever reason. "Just, you know, hanging around and stuff."

Sam's homecoming had been pretty hectic in comparison. He had a big family, and they were always kept on their toes. But that didn't mean he'd been distracted. That didn't mean he hadn't been yearning for life at Hogwarts. Or rather, though he wouldn't admit it out loud, life with Janey.

"Well, it's nice to be at the beach," he said. "I never get to come to the coast that much."

"Me neither," Janey agreed. "I love it down here though. I think I'd like to live by the beach," she said somewhat dreamily.

"Really?" Sam asked in surprise. "I thought you were all about the city."

"Mhmm," Janey agreed, "I am. I meant like, _after_ that though. It would be nice to retire down here. Sandbanks is so beautiful."

Sam revelled in her confession, feeling like she was revealing to him just a little part of her heart. He wondered if she at all, in her daydream, saw Sam there too. Retiring with her on the beach…

He daren't ask.

Sandbanks _was_ beautiful, he mused, and it had been a truly beautiful day. But not just because of the location.

"Can I tell you something?" Sam suddenly asked, a mischievous lilt to his voice. "Something I've never told you before?"

Janey broke their embrace so fast, and looked at him with such shock, that you'd have thought Sam had just proposed to her, or told her he loved her or something. Is that what she'd thought he'd been hinting at, Sam suddenly panicked himself. Because Merlin knows he was as horrified by that notion as she was!

He wasn't sure he'd even told her that he _liked_ her (other than the mishap with the truth potion).

Janey looked wary, and incredibly anxious. Sam just started to laugh.

"You're really hot, Janey," he told her. "Like, seriously hot."

Janey regarded him with suspicion, her wariness only deepening. "What?"

"That's what I wanted to tell you," he explained, realising now that it probably wasn't as flattering and urgent as he'd thought it had been. "You're, ah, really hot."

"Wait," she asked, still looking deeply suspicious. "Wait – when you said you wanted to tell me something you've never told me before – it was just that… I'm hot?"

Sam's face fell. Should he have said something different? Told her she was beautiful? But that seemed too much – too far for them. He'd have thought a girl like Janey would love being told she was hot, though maybe it was only degrading…

But she looked pleasantly surprised, her anxiousness quickly transitioning into that usual flirty confidence. "You're only just realising this?"

Sam grinned again, relaxing once more. "I'm only just admitting I've realised this."

"I'm sure you'd say that to any girl who whipped her clothes off for you."

"Ah, but you're the first," he teased. He raised his eyebrows then. "And besides, you're suggesting you only stripped down for _my_ benefit?"

"No," she teased back. "For my tan. You just got lucky."

"I knew coming to the beach was a good idea," he murmured. It hadn't been Sam's idea at all, but he was hugely thankful that James had thought it would be. "So anyway," Sam went on, still grinning, "are you going to tell me I'm hot too?"

"No," Janey snorted.

"Why not?"

"Because you're not."

Sam had no time to get offended, before Janey was giggling and pulling him towards her, playfully placing her hands on his hips. "Nah, you're alright," she teased in a low voice. "You'll do."

"That's good enough for me," Sam murmured back, his hands going for her hips too.

She was still wearing bikini bottoms, he realised, remembering that, in fact, other than her cardigan, she was as exposed as she had been before. Only a thin layer of fabric separated him from touching her bare skin. And with his hands on her hips, if they were to venture just _slightly_ lower…

Sam gulped, trying to force his mind elsewhere. When it came to their physical relationship, Sam was clueless. His whole relationship with Janey left him feeling clueless, but that was certainly an area he didn't even have the chance to exert control in.

He very much enjoyed kissing Janey, and over the past month they'd gotten used to each other. Sam was still always entranced whenever she brought her lips to his, but he'd been able to pick up on her rhythm, her technique. He knew what to expect now, and so he knew how to respond, as easily as breathing.

But the art of snogging was something else altogether. Even with the confidence he was gaining, there was so much uncertainty. It wasn't just mouths and tongues, it was hands too – where they went, what they _did._ Of which Sam didn't have a clue. He didn't have any clue at what pace a physical relationship was supposed to progress, and it frightened him. He'd never been that intimate with a girl before.

They were seventeen, Sam reminded himself, soon to be nearing eighteen. They weren't little children – they were actually adults in the eyes of the wizarding world – and they knew each other well. They trusted each other, and were, for the most part, comfortable with each other. And when weighing all those factors up, it seemed perfectly acceptable that things would… progress between them physically.

It was only, Sam didn't know what that meant. Exactly.

He himself had never put his hands on Janey's body other than her waist, ribcage, hips, and shoulders when they'd been kissing. He'd never been to second base – never even _thought_ of it. (Well, he'd thought of it a lot, but had not at all considered putting it into practice). Sam wasn't sure he knew what the other 'bases' even were. Perhaps he'd need to ask his older brother…

He'd never – to put it politely – travelled south of the border with his hands. And yet he'd certainly noticed that Janey had no reservations about grabbing his arse when they were making out in the broom cupboards.

It had surprised him how much he'd liked it. And yet, shouldn't that have been an invitation? If _she_ was crossing that line, shouldn't he be doing the same? But Sam had always been mortified at the thought, his confidence in that area falling flat. Even then, with his hands on her hips, all he had to do was move his hands just a few inches lower…

And he'd be touching bare flesh, he realised in alarm. She was in a _bikini_. It was one thing if she was wearing jeans, but his hands, if he were to act right then, would be in contact with her _actual_ naked bum. Well, partially naked.

Sam was so freaked out, he nearly dropped his hands altogether.

And it wasn't even hands; the line didn't stop there. Kissing, as he was coming to realise, was not just lips, and then tongues, and then hands – it was bodies, it was _everything._

He thought back to that brief, but wildly exciting moment in the corridor outside the Great Hall. Before Professor Roberts had embarrassingly stumbled upon the scene and stopped it short, Janey had actually been, for want of a better word, _grinding_. Her _hips_ had been in that kiss. Sam barely knew how to use his tongue yet, let alone his hips.

There were no rules about this, no guidelines. Sam supposed it varied with each couple, taking lots of different factors into consideration. He was certain Rose and Scorpius' relationship had never progressed as fast as his and Janey's had, for example. They'd been much younger, he reminded himself. But he'd wager that, although they'd by no means been _not_ exploring that aspect of their relationship, it had been pretty reserved. Or at least, slow and steady in the building up of. Sam didn't know, nor did he want to ask either Rose or Scorpius in preference to _dying_ , exactly how adventurous and comfortable they were with each other.

James and Ebony, on the other hand, he had no doubts about how quickly, and how far they'd likely gone…

There were no rules – Sam knew that. He knew it varied with each couple, but that uncertainty – that lack of defined boundaries – terrified him. Janey, whilst she was hugely reluctant to further their emotional connection, seemed to have no problems with pushing their physical exploration further than Sam was necessarily comfortable with.

It wasn't that he didn't _want_ to. He just felt like he had absolutely no idea what he was doing. And it's not like he could ask anyone.

Not if he didn't want to be ridiculed.

"I wanted to give you something," Janey murmured to him, pulling Sam's hips closer. He gulped. "I didn't want to leave things the way I did on the platform."

"Oh?" Sam asked, trying not to think of her hips, or her bikini, or anything of the sort.

"I wanted to give you _this_ ," she said, one hand moving to the back of his neck.

And even though Sam had obviously seen it coming, he still felt surprised when she pulled his head towards hers, kissing him, properly, since they'd officially become a couple. The instant their lips touched, his stomach did a somersault. He didn't think he'd ever get used to that rush, no matter how many snogs they'd already shared, nor how many they'd hopefully share in the future.

For all Sam's frantic worrying, he always felt remarkably at ease when they _were_ actually kissing. It was easy, it was natural, and even if his mind was in turmoil, everything just seemed right. It just _happened_ ; he needn't do anything more than enjoy it.

Which he was. _Oh, how he was._

Her lips sliding over his, tongue slipping into his mouth with considerably less alarm than when she'd done it the first time, Sam actually thought he _groaned_ as the kiss quickly transitioned from sweet and endearing to fiery and intense. He'd been away from her for too long. He'd missed her. He'd missed _this._

Janey's arms tightened around him, one snaking around the back of his neck, the other moving from his waist around to the small of his back, drawing him in like a python trapping its prey (not that Sam had any problems with that). He'd gotten used to being pressed up against her (one of the delightful requirements of the broom cupboards), but he was deeply aware of how little clothing there actually was between them.

Sam's earlier queries came to mind.

 _Move your hands_ , he ordered, both of them still clinically placed on her hips (which was kind of awkward, given how closely she was pulling him to her). _Move one hand_ , he reasoned. _Just one. Just slide it down a couple of inches._

Sam was so forcefully trying to get his hands to do what his mind wanted them to do, that when he _did_ move his hand, it was far from the gentle, subtle sliding he'd had in mind. That is to say, it took so much willpower to move his hand from the safety of Janey's hip to gently rest on her backside, that he might have, kind of, slapped it there.

Janey withdrew immediately, a look of deep surprise on her face. "Did you just slap my arse?" she asked in breathy accusation.

Sam felt as shocked that it had happened as she did. "I think I did," he said sheepishly, eyes wide in confusion. That hadn't at all gone the way he'd pictured it in his head.

Janey's chest rose and fell, Sam's hand still in position – too scared to move it now that it had taken so much effort to get it there in the first place – before she leaned in again, surprised longing in her eyes. Sam was not prepared for the way she so seductively sucked his bottom lip into her mouth, certain that he groaned again.

 _Alright, that had to stop_ , he fiercely ordered. He didn't want to be one of those overly _vocal_ kissers.

"Do you think they're watching us?" Sam murmured, trying not to think about how his hand was resting on Janey's bum. _His hand was on Janey's bum._

"No," Janey murmured back, more interested in prising Sam's lips apart with her tongue.

There was a sudden sound of muffled, but distinct cheering from over by the campfire, following by the expertly shrill wolf whistle that only James Potter had perfected.

"I've changed my mind," Janey said, immediately withdrawing, causing Sam to follow her lead. "I think they're watching."

Sam felt flushed. He wondered if they'd seen him unintentionally slap Janey's bum. Although she'd seemed to like it, Sam thought excitedly. Perhaps he should do it again…

Janey took hold of his hand and dragged him further along the rockface. "There's a dip further along here," she explained. "Where it rounds the corner. We should have more privacy that way," she said coyly.

Sam just swallowed the lump in his throat, feeling slightly dizzy after their brief, but intense exchange.

Janey was right. The rockface did indeed curve round the corner, shielding a sort of alcove (it took Sam back to the window in Rosewood Manor), perfectly out of sight of James and the others. The only problem being that it was already occupied.

By Rose and Scorpius.

Who were doing some snogging of their own.

"Hey!" Janey snapped impulsively, furious that her hidey-hole was already in use.

Sam just watched in confusion, forgetting how bizarre it was to see the unofficial couple acting like a couple, like a throwback to two years ago. Up until recently it had been more common to see them arguing.

Was that what it was like for the others to see Sam and Janey?

Rose pushed Scorpius away so forcefully at Janey's interjection that he ended up smacking his back into the jagged wall of rock. He looked more alarmed by the sudden ceasing of the snogging though, looking to Janey and Sam in a dazed sort of way.

"Hi, Janey," Rose coughed, blushing as red as her bikini, trying to pass herself off as friendly and casual, as though she'd not just been caught snogging her not-quite-boyfriend. "How are you?"

"I'm great," Janey said drily, giving Rose a condemning, suggestive stare, which only made the redhead blush more.

Sam wondered if Scorpius had ever slapped Rose's bum. He decided not to ask.

"Good," Rose gulped, looking like she was under interrogation. "That's great."

Scorpius was rubbing his shoulder, still looking dazed. Sam's attention was drawn to the tattoo they'd all been so intrigued by earlier. Sam had been impressed, he couldn't lie. Badass Slytherin that he was, of course Scorpius Malfoy had a tattoo – a scorpion and a rose, in honour of he and Rose – which he'd apparently gotten when he was fifteen.

Sam pondered on what tattoo he'd get if he wanted to honour his and Janey's relationship in the same way. But 'Sam' and 'Janey' didn't exactly point to anything as obvious as Scorpius and Rose's names did. He thought of what James had said earlier. Maybe a jam jar…

It was only when Scorpius caught Sam's eye, looking slightly alarmed, that Sam realised it looked like he was checking the Slytherin boy out. He hurriedly averted his gaze, distracting himself by picking at a loose rock.

"So, ah," Rose said, still refusing to allude to the fact that she and Scorpius had been caught kissing, even under Janey's penetrative stare. "What are you… doing here?"

Janey's challenging stare remained in place. "Sam and I came here to make out."

Sam snapped the bit of rock off the wall, and dropped it to the sand in surprise.

Rose leapt to her feet, still blushing. "Good," she exclaimed. "Well… you know, have fun."

"Oh, we will. Almost as much fun as you and –"

"Bye, Janey!" Rose yelled across her, hurrying past both her and Sam without a single look back.

Sam stole a glance at Rose as she hurried by, hoping Janey wasn't paying attention. Even though her red and white polka dot bikini certainly covered more of her body than Janey had earlier had on display, it was the most revealing thing he'd ever seen her in, obviously. Rose had a nice body, no one could deny that, but she didn't _quite_ have the curves that Janey did.

Scorpius, realising he was left alone, folded his arms across his bare chest. "Hi," he said sheepishly, half looking amused and half looking apologetic.

Janey just glared at him like he was stupid. "Go away."

"Gladly," Scorpius laughed as he followed after Rose's retreating figure. He and Sam made awkward eye contact as he passed, both boys giving a sort of bro-styled nod of the head, no words exchanged.

"For the record," Sam said, once he and Janey were truly alone, "there's no 'almost' about it. We will have _more_ fun than them," he said with a wicked grin.

"Yeah?" Janey asked, her hostility towards Rose melting into her earlier playfulness. She walked towards him, intent on picking up from where they'd left off. This time, uninterrupted.

Taking them both by thrilled surprise, Sam slapped a hand onto Janey's bum once again, pulling her in closer. "Oh yeah."

* * *

The beach became a quick favourite for the group. James, Mason, Albus, Sam, Janey, Rose, Gwen, Taylor, Ebony, Jinx, Albireo, and Scorpius at the heart of it, sometimes they'd be joined by the younger ones too – Lily, Serephina, Hugo, and their friend, Ben. And sometimes Albus' unofficial girlfriend, Annabel, joined them too, along with various other members of the Potter-Weasley clan.

Quidditch games, road trips, campfires, trips to the beach… It was set to be a beautiful summer. And it was.

That first month passed quickly, with the group meeting up as often as possible. Sam and Janey, now that she'd sorted his phone for him, talked every day if they weren't spending it together. At first it was just texting (which Sam still struggled with), until they worked their way up to actual phone calls, spending hours on the phone to each other, growing more and more confident with their new relationship.

Their stolen moments, away from the group, were just as fun. Walking together, hand-in-hand, lounging around together, just enjoying each other's company. And, of course, having a snog whenever they could.

Nothing could beat the thrill of that young, wild, teenage romance.

Janey loved it. She loved being with Sam, fun and playful, really able to enjoy their relationship without too much seriousness. It wasn't challenging, it wasn't difficult; it was happy and carefree. They had no boundaries to overcome, no challenges to face, just a smooth, leisurely stroll.

Until, of course, Sam had to complicate it.

Janey couldn't blame him. She should have known she couldn't escape the inevitable, no matter how much she delayed it. She should have known it couldn't just be all fun and laughter, and snogging. They were in a relationship, they were _committed_. And that's what made it so different to all her previous flings.

Still, she could not pretend she wasn't surprised, and hugely freaked out, when Sam took her aside at the beach one day, a month or so of them being an official couple, looked her sincerely and apologetically in the eye, and announced those words that would change _everything._

"Janey," he'd gulped, knowing what he was about to announce would be a huge step for them, but especially for her. "My family wants to meet you."

The poor girl almost fainted.

* * *

 _ **Author's Note:** Italicised lyrics and title inspiration from Demi Lovato's 'Cool For The Summer' (yeah, I know, there's been a lot of Demi Lovato so far - that wasn't particularly intentional XD)_


	9. Perfect

**Chapter 9 – Perfect**

* * *

 _Just because Sam and Janey were now officially dating, it didn't mean they didn't still argue. Theirs was certainly a very passionate love affair in_ all _aspects. But it was right for them. Brave and wild, challenging – Gryffindor through and through._

 _They didn't know how long it would last – whether it would fizzle out in time like a firework, whether it would always burn strong and bright, or whether they'd dip in and out over time – but despite their frequent differences in opinions, Sam and Janey were right for each other on so many levels._

 _They needed each other for different reasons. Janey had needed to know love, and Sam had needed to give away unfaltering love._

 _They made each other better._

* * *

"No, Sam, no, I _can't_ ," Janey had begged those two days ago, when Sam had first made the announcement that his family had expressed interest in meeting her. "I – I can't – I just can't – I –"

"Janey," he'd said calmly, taking hold of her hands, "just look at me."

"Sam, I can't – I can't meet –"

"Janey, look at me," he ordered. She did so, terror flaring up in her eyes. "And breathe."

The blonde girl obliged, sucking in a deep, shaky breath, and then slowly exhaling, all the while staring into those deep brown eyes, the most familiar thing in the world to her nowadays.

"Okay?" he asked, his tone soothing and gentle.

But Janey was far from okay. She shook her head from side to side in a frantic manner, already sensing she was getting worked up again. "Sam, please, I _can't_. I –"

"Hey," he interrupted, gently placing a kiss on her forehead.

"Sam –"

"Janey," he chastised, cutting her short again. "You'll – be – O – K," he promised, kissing a different inch of her face in-between each syllable, finally coming to rest against her lips.

Janey's anxiety melted away only briefly as she got lost in the sweetness of the kiss, but all too abruptly she pulled away, grabbing at Sam's upper arms and looking wild. "I can't, I really can't. I don't _do_ this – I don't meet families. I don't want to!" she declared.

Sam didn't look offended, he just laughed. He had expected her reaction, and would have been more shocked if it had been anything else. "Janey," he laughed, heart bursting with endearment, "it's okay."

"It's _not_ okay," she snapped, dropping her hands. Why did he keep saying that? "It _won't_ be okay, alright?"

"Why?" he challenged.

"B-because," Janey floundered, struggling to think of a valid, justifiable reason. "It's too soon, alright?" she burst out. "It's too serious – too big a step. It's supposed to be… to be _months_ before you meet your significant other's parents."

"Significant other?" Sam repeated in amusement.

Janey ignored him. "It's too soon," she said triumphantly. "We've only been together for a month – I don't even _know_ you."

"You know me," he laughed.

"I don't," Janey fiercely denied. "I don't know where you grew up. I don't know your middle name. I don't know –"

"My middle name is Christopher," Sam said calmly. "Named after my father, who died when I was two. He was a wizard, and my mother a Muggle. She met her current husband, and my stepfather, a few years later, who's also a Muggle, and when they were married they moved from Northampton to Nottingham together - where I was raised. He had two children from his previous marriage – Elliot, who's twenty-six, and Kayleigh, who's twenty-three – who also lived with us, and they have two children together – my half-siblings – a twin boy and girl called Zoe and Morgan, who are both ten. Of the five of us I'm the only magical one."

Janey just stared, wide-eyed, as Sam concluded his brief and casual summary of his family. She hadn't known he'd had such a large family, even if none of his siblings were direct. She also hadn't known his father had died when he was only two.

"We also have a dog," he said, the edges of his mouth curling upwards.

Janey dropped her gaze, still looking stubborn. "I hate dogs," she said dismissively. "They're gross and dirty and slobbery. And overenthusiastic. And they invade your personal space."

"Nah, you'll love Rusty."

Janey glared at him. "What if I'm allergic to dogs?"

"We'll put him outside."

"But the dog hair will be everywhere."

"I'm sure we can get you some pills or something."

"But what if –"

"Janey, you're _not_ allergic to dogs, and you know it."

"How do you know?" she challenged, looking fierce. "I _could_ be. You don't know anything about me!"

"Yeah?" Sam asked, a wicked glint in his eye. "Alright then, tell me about yourself, Janey. Tell me about _your_ family – _your_ upbringing."

"I – what?" Janey spluttered, looking taken aback.

"You just expressed upset that I don't know anything about you, so go ahead." Sam spread his arms wide. "Tell me about yourself. Let me get to know you."

Janey scowled, angry at Sam, and angry at herself. He had been desperately prying, since the moment they'd first kissed, to find out more about her, and to get her to open up to him. They'd just about gotten so easy and carefree around each other, that none of that past conflict had crept in. They hadn't argued at all; they'd just been blissfully and ecstatically happy. Nothing serious.

"You know that's not what I meant," she accused, folding her arms in disgust. The movement did not go unnoticed by Sam. They were having their first argument as a couple, he realised, oddly excited by the thought.

"No," he denied, still acting arrogant, "I didn't know that's not what you meant. I _never_ know what you mean."

"Okay, well I _don't_ want to tell you about my family, and I _don't_ want to meet yours," she yelled.

"Wow, Janey, that's real nice."

"If you wanted _nice_ then you shouldn't have ever asked me to be your girlfriend," she hissed at him.

"I didn't," Sam reminded her coolly. "James asked on my behalf and I did nothing to dissuade it."

Of all the hurtful things he'd ever said to her, it was _that_ comment that most struck Janey. She was temporarily frozen, completely at a loss for words, as the colour drained from her face and the breath hitched in her throat. Had he just said, in some way, that he didn't even want to be with her? That he never really had?

" _Fine_ ," Janey spat. "If that's how you feel – if that's what you want –"

"Then _what?"_ Sam asked snidely.

"Then why are we even together?" she growled. "Why don't you just _leave?_ "

"Because I _do_ want to be with you!" he yelled, his demeanour suddenly changing from cool and disinterested to deeply alarmed. "That is my point, Janey! I want, so badly, to be with you, but to _really_ be with you. That's why I want to know more about you – that's why I want you to meet my family!"

Janey said nothing, still looking furious, and now also looking on the brink of tears. Tears that would never come. Sam just groaned, dropping his head into his hands, before throwing his head back, taking a deep breath, and coming towards her, now much more calm and tender than he had been before.

"Janey," he murmured desperately, taking hold of her hands again, and pressing his lips to her temple, just above one ear. He trailed kisses from the top of her face, right down to her chin, playing with her hands as he did so.

She remained stubborn and disinterested, but did nothing to stop him, pursing her lips as he showered her in kisses.

"Are you going to break up with me?" he murmured, somewhat playfully.

Janey rolled her eyes. "Do you want me to?" she asked aggressively.

"No," Sam said in a low, gentle voice, kissing the side of her face once more. "James asking you out on my behalf was one of the best things to ever happen to me," he told her softly. "And I've never regretted it." He kissed her cheek. "Not once." He kissed the corner of her mouth, only just brushing her lips. "And I don't think I've ever thanked him."

"One day you are going to push me too far," Janey said coldly. "And you will lose me."

"I don't want to lose you, Janey," Sam said in a pleading voice, looking to her with pained, soulful eyes.

Janey finally let her gaze lock with his, her own eyes as pained and desperate as his, not angry now, but sad.

With his face still practically brushing hers, Sam's gaze flickered to her lips before back to her eyes, as though asking for permission. "Then don't push me," she whispered, before answering his request by pressing her lips to his.

The kiss was gentle, but deeply meaningful, just a delicate brushing of lips as the fire of their first argument dwindled into embers. It felt full of sadness.

"So is that a firm 'no'?" Sam asked, resting his head atop hers and protectively enfolding her in his arms. Janey didn't fight it; she held him tightly, clinging to him like a scared child. Which, he supposed, in that moment, she probably was.

" _Sam_ ," she groaned, dragging his name out with despair.

"Janey, what are you so scared of?" he asked, holding onto her shoulders and looking at her seriously.

Her eyes were wide, filled with desperation. "I'm not _scared_ ," she insisted, though her undeniably anxious demeanour said otherwise. "It's just…"

 _Too soon,_ Sam answered in his mind. _Too big a step._

"What if they don't like me?" she suddenly asked in a panic.

"They will," Sam assured her. "There's no reason why they wouldn't, Janey."

"Why do they even _want_ to meet me? H-how do they even know about me?"

Sam just laughed. "Because I _talk_ about you."

"Why?" she demanded. "What do you say?"

"Good stuff," he assured her. "Well" – an impish smile broke out – "mostly." When Janey looked even more alarmed, Sam just laughed, stretching a hand out to cradle her face. "I always used to talk about you," he explained. "Not just _you_ , but everybody in general – all my friends."

"I was your friend?" Janey teased, slowly beginning to ease up.

"Well, you know, I might _not_ have said such favourable things about you compared to the others," Sam said, with that same impish grin. "I mean, especially when I found out you'd be Prefect with me."

Janey didn't blame him. She'd been furious at the discovery too. Not that there was anybody she'd particularly have wanted to be her male counterpart (she'd not even expected to be made Prefect in the first place anyway), but Sam would have been her _last_ choice. Oh, how they'd driven each other crazy.

"But, ah, they noticed something was different this summer."

"Yeah?" Janey asked.

"I'd never been so interested in Muggle technology," Sam said. "They couldn't understand why I was so desperate for a mobile phone all of a sudden."

"I thought you had one," Janey said.

"Yeah, turns out my mum threw it away last summer. I was so angry at her…"

"You bought a new phone just so you could… talk to me?" Janey asked shyly. He hadn't mentioned that before. She hadn't realised how out of his way he'd gone, just in order to communicate with her. Was she even really worth it?

Sam just stared down at her, eyes shining. Gently and lovingly, he brushed his thumb against her cheek from where he was still holding her face. She was staring up at him breathlessly, flattered awe etched into her expression.

"That was… the other thing," Sam said, suddenly shy. "There was a distinct lack of me… moaning about you. Which, of course, they all thought was really suspicious. And my sister, Kayleigh, she kind of figured it out from that."

"Figured what out?" Janey asked quietly.

"That something had changed between us. That you had, somehow, become the most important thing in the world to me."

Janey didn't say anything. She didn't know what to say. Barely minutes ago she'd been yelling at him, threatening to break up with him over the simple, endearing fact that he wanted her to meet his family. And now the atmosphere was so tender, so affectionately-charged, and her heart was soaring. Sam could be so poetic, so romantic sometimes, and she knew she'd never be able to reciprocate that.

"Yeah?" she gulped, at a loss for words.

"Yeah," he insisted, deep sincerity in both his tone and his eyes. "And they know that, Janey. They can see how crazy I am for you – how important you are to me – and they just want to share in that. They've never seen me so happy. So… excited about someone."

It was quickly diving into emotional, soppy, heart-to-heart kind of stuff – the kind of thing Janey desperately wanted to avoid – and yet, she felt mesmerised by his words, completely awestruck. She _wanted_ him to say those things to her. She _wanted_ to hear how overcome with emotion he was by her. And not the kind of emotion he'd _used_ to be overcome by, but positive now, not negative. In the same way she felt.

"I've never met a boyfriend's parents before though," she whimpered. "I – I don't know how to do that."

It was true. Sam was probably, at merely a month, her longest relationship anyway, and certainly her most serious. She was well and truly falling for him.

And meeting his family? That was _huge_. What if they didn't like her? What if they didn't think she was good enough for him? That they weren't right together? Could she cope with that kind of rejection when she knew how important it was for her to be compatible with Sam?

Too long she'd settled for second best – and not even that. It needed to be perfect with Sam. Everything had to be _perfect._

And what if she encountered the opposite problem? What if she got on really well with his family? That would only make it more difficult if things weren't to work out. The deeper she got – the more bonds in which she tied herself to Sam – the harder it would be to lose him. And losing him, in the long run, due to her terrifying fear of serious commitment, seemed inevitable.

"It's fine," Sam insisted. "They're nice people, Janey, I promise. I mean, Kayleigh can be a bit of a bitch but that's more to me – she wouldn't be hostile to you."

Janey had already forgotten who Kayleigh was – who all of his various siblings were. Four siblings, was it? Or five?

"And you're a very charismatic person," Sam said with gentle assurance, bringing his hand from her face to run it down her arm. "You know, when you _want_ to be, you can be very charming. You're likable, Janey. You're so easy to… like," he finished sheepishly, as though backtracking on what he might have said.

But Janey was far from convinced. She wasn't _likeable_ – she was far from it! She was stubborn and problematic and overbearing, and a very, _very_ acquired taste. Sam of all people knew that! Who was he trying to kid?

"You must be deluded," she teased.

"You're an actress," Sam kindly pointed out. "Just see it as a performance – a role you're playing. Draw on that Gryffindor confidence."

Janey suddenly perked up. Not at Sam's suggestion, but at something she'd recalled from a previous (many, in fact) argument. "Your stepdad," she said excitedly. "Is he the one who's the producer?"

Sam rolled his eyes. "He's not a producer, he _knows_ a producer," he clarified, slightly agitated. But his eyes widened, instantly perking up as he realised he could use this to his advantage. "How can you pass on such an opportunity?" he teased. "He could make you a _star._ "

Janey smirked. Oh, he knew how to appeal to her priorities. "Tempting," she said. "Very tempting…"

"I'll be there," Sam said. "With you. Right by your side, holding your hand through it all." He took her hands into his as though affirming this claim. "And they're not intimidating, don't worry. They don't want to frighten you away, or grill you or anything, they just want to, finally, meet the girl who's been driving me cray all these years. And who," he gulped, "is now driving me crazy in… other ways. For much more positive reasons."

That rush of awe came back to Janey. As much as she shunned the idea of Sam pouring his heart out to her, expressing any kind of sentiment, it felt really, really good. Confusingly uplifting – encouraging rather than daunting.

"What if they don't like me?" she voiced again.

"They will, Janey. There's no reason why they wouldn't."

"And so... I would… what?" she gulped. "Come round your house or…?"

Sam broke out into an uncontainable grin, beaming both physically and emotionally. She was really going to do it; she was actually going to go through with it. "Yeah," he agreed. "It wouldn't be for long," he quickly assured her. "Just, you know, lunch or something."

"But I don't know where you live," she pointed out. "And I can't apparate."

"Don't worry, we'll figure something out," Sam promised, unable to contain his excitement. "So is that… a yes?" he dared to ask, needing confirmation – needing commitment. He didn't want to get his hopes up, only for Janey to pull out.

Janey looked down nervously, avoiding looking him in the eye. "I… _maybe_ ," she mumbled.

"Is that a yes?" Sam tried again, playfully pulling her towards him, clasping her wrists, and trying to get her to look him in the eye.

" _No_ ," She squealed, fighting him off and laughing so much she was struggling to breathe.

"Is that a _yes?_ " he laughed, catching her round the waist.

"No, stop it!" she shrieked, trying to escape, panting in-between her laughter. " _Stop it!"_ she begged.

"Only if you promise!"

"I promise, I promise!" she squealed.

"To meet my family? To come round my house and meet my family?"

" _Yes,_ I promise!"

"Soon?" Sam teased.

"I'll go right now if you let go of me!"

Feeling satisfied, Sam loosened his grip, grinning contently. Only problem being, as Janey was acting so aggressively, the force of her pulling away from him only to be suddenly released, sent her hurtling to the ground, Sam in tow.

If fate had been kinder, Sam thought, she would have ended up on top of him, bodies entangled, panting heavily. But they were not living in a rom-com, much to his disappointment, and the couple landed separately, hitting the sand with a thud.

Sam, having landed on his back, immediately rolled onto his side to check Janey was okay. He hadn't meant to hurt her – he'd just been being playful, that was all.

Janey was face down in the sand, looking as surprised and winded as he was. She turned to look at him, mouth open in shock, sand smeared around her face. "You got – sand – in – my – _mouth!"_

Sam couldn't help but laugh, creasing his face up as he did so, his stomach actually hurting.

"It's not funny!" she yelled in disbelief, though she too was struggling to contain her laughter.

"It's pretty funny," he teased, wondering if the others had been watching. He wondered what it must have looked like, if they had been subtly observing. Sam had taken Janey aside only to have her yell at him, then kiss her a few times, and then… wrestle her to the ground? "And you promised," he reminded her. "You can't back out now."

"You _forced_ it out of me," Janey accused.

"And now you have to keep it."

"I don't _have_ to," she said cockily. "I'm not Rose – I've never made claims to keep any and every promise I make."

"Ah," Sam grinned, "but you'll do it for me, yeah?"

"Absolutely not," she scoffed. "You just threw me on the floor!"

"So what can I do to convince you?" he asked, pushing himself up onto his elbows to look at her.

Janey considered it for a moment. When she looked back at him, she was smirking – never a good sign – and her eyes had lit up with wicked mirth. "I will go to your house and meet your family in the very near future," she began.

"If?" Sam queried, waiting for the catch.

Janey looked thrilled. "If you kiss me."

"What?"

"Right here. Right now."

Sam just blinked in surprise, unsure what her game was. _That_ was the catch? Not only did he get her to agree to keep her hastily made promise to him, but he also got a snog out of it? It was win-win!

It was only when Janey advanced on him, crawling over on her stomach, still looking inexplicably excited by the agreement, that he clocked the mouth full of sand and realised what she was doing. "No!" he yelped in horror.

"Yes!" she yelled back, still looking thrilled. "Kiss me, Sam! Why won't you kiss me!?"

After a brief struggle, in which Sam only half-heartedly fought her off, Janey brought her sand-smeared lips to his, the awful gritty texture providing a confusing dynamic to what was otherwise a very enjoyable kiss.

"That was," he snorted, after she finally relinquished, "disgusting."

"Mhmm," Janey murmured, tracing a circle on his chest with her finger, "but I certainly enjoyed it."

"So" – Sam cleared his throat, grinning from ear to ear – "is that finally a yes then? Is that an actual promise?"

Janey rolled her eyes, rolling her body away from him to prop herself up on her elbows by his side. "Yeah," she mumbled. "Fine. Whatever."

"What was that?"

" _Yes_ ," she sighed.

"Once more?"

"Yes!" Janey yelled. She shook her head from side to side, laughing gently. "Yes," she said, much more kindly. "I promise."

* * *

Two days later and Janey was physically _shaking_ at the prospect of meeting Sam's family. An elder stepbrother, an elder stepsister, and younger twin half-siblings, a boy and a girl. Plus his stepdad. Plus a dog. Plus his _mother_ , of course.

Why had she agreed to do it?

But Janey couldn't let Sam down, not after she'd promised. He would be devastated. He'd be so disappointed. Little did she know that he was nearly as nervous as she was. Similarly to herself, Sam had never brought a girlfriend home to meet his family. It wasn't like he'd ever had the opportunity, to be fair, as both his short-lived romances hadn't ever overlapped with the holidays. But still, it was more than just timing and convenience – he _wanted_ to cross that line with Janey. He _wanted_ to take that step.

Sam's mother, he knew, was delightful, and not just because she was his own. She was friendly, charming – the kind of mother anybody deserved – and she got on with everybody. And his stepfather too, was a perfectly charming and charismatic man. Both of them were deeply curious about Janey, desperate to meet the girl he had moaned about at every opportunity, and who he was now undeniably smitten with, and he knew they would do everything they could to make her feel welcome.

Elliot, his twenty-six-year-old stepbrother was also very polite, well-mannered, and very friendly. He had a long-term girlfriend himself, and it was partially due to the family's glowing reception of _her_ that Sam knew they'd be so encouraging with Janey too. Kayleigh was… not so much the polite, well-mannered, and friendly counterpart to her brother. She and Janey were either the kind of girls that would get on notoriously well, or would be nothing short of fierce, unforgiving rivals.

Sam only hoped the former was true…

As for Zoe and Morgan, well, they were only ten. They varied between irritatingly annoying, or perfectly sweet, but he doubted they'd show much interest, let alone aggression, towards Janey.

Even still, Sam was nervous. He didn't want it to be awkward or uncomfortable for anybody involved, knowing how much of a push it was to even get Janey to agree to go through with it. It was a huge step for any couple, regardless of Janey's delicate personality, to be meeting each other's family, especially after only a month of dating.

But Sam's mother, bless her heart, had been insistent on wanting to meet Janey, and though Sam had been able to dissuade the idea at first, and stave her off for a while, she had gotten so upset about his evasion that he hadn't been able to refuse any longer, offering to at least suggest it to Janey. Which he had done, and which she had, shockingly (though admittedly reluctantly), agreed to.

He knew the sacrifice Janey was making, and understood how much she was putting herself out on the line. And he only hoped it would pay off. If it, for whatever reason, went wrong, or was generally unsatisfactory, it was going to seriously strain their relationship. She might never trust him again…

Janey had been reluctant to confide to her friends that she was meeting Sam's family, but she had had nobody else to be able to turn to for advice. Rose, Jinx, Ebony, and Gwen had all met, at some point or another, their boyfriend's parents, so it was to them she turned.

Rose had pointed out, though it was the opposite way around, that you pretty much couldn't have a _worse_ introduction to your significant other's parents than Scorpius had had with hers when they were fifteen. Not only had Ron yelled, and been particularly unpleasant, he had also tried (and nearly succeeded) in sending Scorpius to Azkaban. Rose also reminded Janey that Astoria Malfoy had tried to kill Rose upon first meeting her, just before her untimely death about a month ago.

So, with _that_ putting it into perspective, could it really be such a bad thing?

Rose's was by far the worst, as you'd expect. In fact, the three others had nothing particularly negative to say of the experience. But yet, their circumstances were all different. Ebony hadn't even met Ginny and Harry Potter until after she and James were married, and had been seeing each other for about a year and a half before that. As for James, with Ebony's mother being the headmistress of Hogwarts (although none of them had known at the time), he'd already obviously met (and been (mostly) adored by) her, in a completely different situation.

Gwen and Mason had met each other's families at Christmas, four months after they'd started dating. Jinx and Albireo too, had met each other's families in the summer, also following about four months of initial dating.

And both couples, Janey realised (Gwen and Mason, and Jinx and Albireo), had had _very_ long, and serious relationships, with the latter still going strong for the most part. Gwen and Mason had been together for over a year, he'd actually stayed with her family on several occasions, and probably the other way around too, really becoming part of the family.

None of this did anything to ease Janey's anxiety at the imminent meeting though. She and Sam had been together for a month. Even if they'd been dating for _years_ or were (God forbid) _married_ , she'd still find the prospect of meeting Sam's family the most daunting thing in the world. And why did he have to have such a large family, she thought, inwardly groaning to herself. _Four_ siblings? And a dog!

What if the tables were turned and it was Sam meeting her father and her cat? _Like that would ever happen._

But before she knew it, getting shockingly little sleep before, the day arrived. Janey was going to go to Sam's house. She was going to meet his family.

She was _terrified._

She knew she could be difficult and overbearing at the best of times, but often that was unintentional. She really didn't want to make a bad impression to Sam's mother and stepfather. She couldn't bear to be deemed unworthy of their son. Which, though she'd admit it to no one, she sort of felt she was.

Nottingham was beautiful – more so than Janey had expected it to be. She'd pictured hills, and mud, and sheep in her mind, not actually realising it was a city. Sam's house wasn't situated in the centre though, but on the outskirts – peaceful, cosy, homely. It couldn't have been more different from her own home.

Janey found herself stood at the front door (at least she hoped it was the right house), frozen in sudden fear. Sam's world was different to hers, she nervously thought, as she took in the ivy snaking up the brickwork, and the humorous plaque on the garden gate that warned of the dog. Muggles they might be (and despite six years at Hogwarts, she still felt more comfortable associating herself with the Muggle world than the wizarding world), but Janey felt out of her depth.

Socially, she and Sam were worlds apart – something they'd never discussed even a little bit. Janey didn't even know if Sam was even really that aware of her social standing. It didn't matter to her, she certainly had no prejudice, she was just wary of how she might come across to _them._ Janey was not a celebrity, no matter how much she'd tried to insist she was in her early days at Hogwarts, but she could not pretend her home life, and her childhood, were remarkably different to that of the Tylers'.

Though she hadn't really 'unfrozen' from before, Janey experienced another fleeting moment of panic. She'd been running Sam's family through her mind over and over since he'd first mentioned it – names, ages, relations – trying to familiarise them so she didn't make a fool of herself when she was introduced – but she suddenly was uncertain about whether they even _were_ all 'Tylers.'

Sam could very well have retained his own father's name amidst his mother remarrying. And the rest of his siblings, step and half alike, all shared a new father, so it seemed feasible for them to share _his_ name. And what about Sam's mother? Upon remarrying had she changed her name? Had she maybe even kept her maiden name?

Was _anybody_ a Tyler? Were they _all?_

How was Janey supposed to address them if she didn't know? She couldn't call Sam's mother 'Mrs Tyler' if that wasn't her name – that would just be embarrassing. And even more so, if Tyler was indeed Sam's father's name, it might even be uncomfortable – to publically brand her with the name of her late husband…

Janey was so terrified, she was on the verge of turning on her heel and retreating far away, escaping not only Nottingham but perhaps the entire country. But somewhere deep inside, that Gryffindor courage swelled, and her finger jabbed at the doorbell before she could think twice. All the breath left Janey's body. Movement stirred from within.

Within seconds the front door was being flung open, and Sam's frantic person appeared before her. He looked as nervous as she did. Was that bad?

Well, Janey thought nervously, she supposed she was about to find out.

* * *

 _ **Author's Note:** There are many songs called 'Perfect,' but the particular one that inspired this chapter's title is by Fairground Attraction :) Italicised extract at the beginning is from Chapter 200 'Vows of Love' from Rose and Scorpius: A Forbidden Love_


	10. Do Ya

**Chapter 10 – Do Ya**

* * *

 _That's all Janey had ever wanted in her life. She craved love and attention, that was all. That was the reasoning behind all the gossip, all the meaningless relationships, and all the jealousy. She wanted to be loved, to be accepted._

* * *

"Hi," Sam said breathlessly.

"Hi," Janey gulped back.

They hadn't seen each other in three days – not since that episode at the beach where they'd almost very dramatically and spontaneously broken up. Janey felt sick – physically nauseous – when she thought back to her overreaction to Sam's innocent request. While it was true they hadn't been together overly long, the thought of _already_ terminating their relationship left her feeling indescribably hollow.

 _That was bad_ , she internally noted. She was already becoming emotionally dependent on him. That was never a good sign in her life.

Sam looked relieved to see her (had he expected her not to show?), his face lighting up at the sight. Janey offered a coy but nervous smile. As Sam leaned in, placing a hand on her back in a sort of half-hug, Janey momentarily floundered. Was he going to kiss her? Was he going in for a snog on his doorstep, with his entire family just a door away?

But he did nothing more than kiss her on the cheek – an endearing gesture that took Janey by pleasant surprise, easing at least a little of her anxiousness.

Sam took a step back to look at her, still somewhat breathless, confusingly awed. "You look… adorable," he praised, as though it was a surprise.

Janey's coy smile deepened. She had gone all out for the Tylers(?) appearance-wise, dressed well and truly for the holidays – a cute little summer dress in a vivid floral print, a hot pink cardigan, and gladiator-style sandals. Rarely did Janey opt for 'cute,' much less florals and hot pink, but she had wanted to appeal to Sam's family – to make an effort.

It had clearly impressed Sam. Janey tucked a strand of short blonde hair behind her ear – that had been one thing she'd been none too pleased about. Though she liked her sophisticated A-line haircut, she'd wished it was longer so she could curl it into waves, and add to the overall 'girly' look she was going for. But really, her hair was the least of her worries.

"Thanks," she said in response to Sam's glowing compliment, shyly peering up at him through her fringe. "So do you."

Sam met her smile with equal endearment. "So," he announced, "you, ah, you should come in."

Janey's body responded in much the same way as it always did when Sam was too emotional or serious, dread flooding through her. But this time she ignored it, head held high, chin jutting out. She was a Gryffindor, for Merlin's sake, and only a month ago she'd been risking her life to fight dark wizards – no way in hell was she going to let herself be frightened by the prospect of meeting her boyfriend's parents. And anyway, if anything it should have been Sam frightened at the prospect of meeting _her_ father.

 _Like that was ever going to happen._

Janey did all she could to steady her breathing as Sam led her into the semi-detached house, taking her hand into his own. She was grateful for the notion, his touch giving her just a little bit of strength. He was on her side, Janey reminded herself. It was she and Sam together.

They took only two steps into the house before the dog was upon them. A bundle of silky fur and unbridled energy, the face and body of a Golden Retriever, but with the rich mahogany tones of an Irish Setter. Janey had always been more of a cat person, never particularly favouring dogs, but she laughed as Sam's jumped up at her, fondling his ears as he happily nosed at her face. At least someone in Sam's family seemed happy with her.

Sam watched the scene unfold with amusement, clearly impressed by Janey's affectionate response. Or maybe with light-hearted envy. She was never that happily affectionate with him, after all. But he intervened after a while, pushing the dog down from his petite girlfriend. "That's not polite, Rusty," he jokingly scolded. "We don't greet guests like that – not if we want to make a good impression."

Janey, now feeling more at ease than she had done before, turned to him with a smirk. The dog stared up at them both, panting excitedly. "Rusty?" she teased. "Very creative name for your burgundy dog."

"Don't blame me," Sam defended, matching her light temperament. "That was down to Zoe and Morgan's combined genius."

 _Zoe and Morgan_ , Janey recited in her head. _Twins,_ _non-magical, ten years old – Sam's half-siblings._

Alongside dogs, Janey lacked warmth when it came to children. They weren't _too_ young though – no different to First Years at Hogwarts - and she knew she could be civil enough around them. It's not like they were babies or toddlers, or something that would make her feel well out of her depth.

They were in the hallway, with Sam having dropped Janey's hand as she met the dog's warm greeting, but at this point he retook it, offered her a calming, almost proud smile, and led her towards where Janey could only assume his mother and stepfather were waiting.

Janey curiously peered at the décor that lined the walls, where what seemed to be hundreds of smiling photographs could be seen of the family throughout all stages of life, interspersed with various hand-made knick-knacks and drawings. Her heart felt heavy. There were a few professionally-shot portraits of Janey when she was younger displayed on the walls of her vast living room, and precisely zero childhood drawings. Her house's interior was 'minimalist.'

Sam's house was not small per se. Janey assumed it was perfectly average for a suburban family of seven (plus dog), but it was miles behind her own, as one would expect. It made her feel uncomfortable only because she felt an indescribable sense of _guilt_. It was stupid really – there was no indication that Sam's family was living in squalor, or were in any way unhappy with the circumstances in which they lived (and really, there was nothing to be disappointed with anyway) – but she felt helpless as she thought of her own lavish upbringing. Why though? It was beyond her control.

Janey could not be ashamed of the way she'd been raised – she was incredibly privileged, and she both recognised and appreciated this – but she felt distanced from reality when she looked around Sam's house. He had grown up with siblings and a dog, and a family that happily plastered their walls in childhood mementos. She felt, all of a sudden, a real sense of longing. Of _loss._ But that was all she'd known. She'd never known anything like _this._

The way Janey looked in awe at Sam's hallway was the same way in which the First Years first looked on the Great Hall. But all too soon, she found herself out of the hallway, led into an open-plan kitchen and dining room. Which was occupied.

Janey subconsciously gripped tighter at Sam's hand. He just squeezed back, once again giving her strength. "Mum," he said proudly, "Gabe."

 _Gabe_ , Janey noted to herself.

"This is Janey."

Janey smiled politely at Sam's parents, desperately hoping she looked like a girl worthy of their son's adoration, that her dress appeared cute rather than gaudy, and that she was coming across as polite and sophisticated as she was going for.

Sam's mum looked thrilled. She was very pretty, Janey thought. Like Professor Bobbin she was one of those women who, despite their middle-agedness, had traces of defined youth and beauty. High cheek-bones, glittering eyes, and hair that was a rich brunette colour, falling in soft shoulder-length waves, accompanied even with a mum-styled fringe. Very Kate Middleton, Janey thought approvingly.

But it wasn't Sam's mother's grace and beauty that overwhelmed Janey; it was the sheer _excitement_ that was etched into her entire being. Her hands were clasped, shoulders hunched up in excitement, and wearing a smile so broad and overwhelmingly delighted that you'd think Janey was the queen or something. It was immensely flattering.

"Hi," Janey said shyly, worried that this poor woman would _explode_ out of excitement.

"Oh, it's so _lovely_ to finally meet you," she breathed, coming towards Janey. "You can call me Delia," she burst out, pulling Janey into a hug before the girl could prepare for it. Janey was taken aback. In a good way though. She had never been hugged like that by her own mother.

"Mum, please," Sam said embarrassedly. His hand had been wrenched from Janey's as his mother embraced her. Even _he_ hadn't greeted Janey that enthusiastically.

Shocked but flattered, Janey was dazed by such a warm welcome. She'd barely taken in the others in the room. The man, Gabe (presumably Sam's stepdad), had been nonchalantly leaning against one of the kitchen counters by the sink, watching the scene unfurl with endeared amusement.

He was a tall man with a kind face and soft grey eyes. Weirdly enough, he actually reminded Janey of her own dad. Fortunately, when he approached her he didn't pull her into a similar embrace to Sam's mum, but politely shook her hand. Janey was already overwhelmed by how perfectly charming and kind the Tylers were. Why had she been so worried?

And yet, rather than feeling total relief, she felt somewhat disheartened. What had they heard of her, she wondered. Had Sam _really_ told them all about her, as far back as First Year? She had been horrible to Sam, there was no denying that, and now Janey felt guilty. Here she was, stood in the kitchen of two perfectly charming people, having messed their son around for years, even going so far as to spitefully break him up with his first serious girlfriend.

They didn't deserve that. They didn't deserve a girl like that being involved in their son's life. They were _good_ people. Far better than she.

"Not gonna introduce _me_ , then?" a sarcastic female voice piped up from the side. Janey blinked in surprise. She had only half-acknowledged the third person in the room.

A young woman, hair a similar colour to Sam's mum (though Janey knew they weren't related by blood), was sat at the extended kitchen table, her legs propped up on it. She was pretty too, Janey thought. Long hair, a slight wave to it, soft freckles spattered on her nose, dark eyeliner, and a knowing smirk. Janey felt intimidated. She looked like the kind of girl who, if she didn't like you, you'd know about it. You'd know about it _big_ time.

Janey gulped.

Sam rolled his eyes in an irritable manner. His mother looked to the dark-haired girl with a disapproving frown, but she herself seemed un-swayed by her own impoliteness.

"This is Kayleigh," Sam sighed. Janey had guessed so much.

"Hi," Kayleigh said, smiling a little too big, and looking extremely interested in Janey. It was unnerving. Was that good or bad? Did she like or detest her?

"Hi," Janey said back, hoping the former was true.

Sam glared at his stepsister.

"What?" she demanded in response. "I'm being _nice!"_

Sam didn't look convinced, but he didn't push it. Kayleigh merely pulled out her phone and started tapping away, suddenly disinterested in the whole affair.

"Kayleigh, love, can you please not put your feet on the table?" her father asked. She responded silently, moving her feet but never moving her eyes from her phone. Janey liked this girl a lot.

"You don't have to be here," Sam said in the same frosty, exasperated tone he'd always used with Janey. The girl smiled at the memory. It was hard to believe those times hadn't been _that_ long ago.

"Oh, I wouldn't miss this for the world," Kayleigh said, gleefully looking up. "Meeting the girl insane enough to actually agree to be in a relationship with you?"

Janey let out a snort, but she was alone. Sam looked further infuriated by his stepsister's demeaning attitude, whilst the adults just looked on disapprovingly. "Don't say that," Delia insisted, looking mortified. "Janey's a lovely girl."

Janey said nothing, silently glowing. She'd barely met this woman and already she was treating her like real family.

"Yeah," Kayleigh agreed, looking offended that they all seemed to think she was being unsavoury. "That's my point. How does a loser like Sam land a girl like _that?"_

Again, Janey felt herself silently glowing at the exchange, even if everybody else thought Kayleigh's comments were brash. Little did they know that Janey's personality differed very little from her own. She had to suppress her laughter though. Firstly, as she didn't think Sam would appreciate it too much, and secondly, because she thought his parents might think she was belittling him in much the same way as his stepsister.

"Thank you," Sam said sarcastically, "for your opinion, Kayleigh, but we didn't want it."

"Janey thinks I'm funny," Kayleigh retaliated, indicating to where Janey was struggling to stifle her laughter. Sam glared at her. Janey just smiled innocently back.

"Well, good then," he scoffed, "the two of you can insult and belittle me together."

"We will," Kayleigh said cheerfully. Janey hoped that meant they were friends. She also hoped Sam wasn't taking it all too seriously.

She subtly took his hand back into hers, which didn't go unnoticed by him, nor his family. Janey felt her face flush, but she didn't let go. Delia seemed to be watching them with deep maternal pride. Kayleigh looked surprised but impressed.

"Is this the same Janey you were always bitching about?" she asked confusedly. " _That_ Janey?"

Sam just glared at her.

Janey, filled with confidence by such a warm initial reception, decided to speak for herself. "I imagine so," she said playfully, giving Sam's hand a gentle squeeze.

Kayleigh looked astonished. "So what _happened?"_

Janey and Sam were both asking themselves the same question.

"None of your business," Sam snapped, and Janey was grateful. She and Sam had spoken very little about the abrupt change in the state of their relationship and their emotions towards each other, and she was far from comfortable with trying to explain that to the rest of his family. She was still adapting to it herself. And he too.

"Okay, but you didn't tell me she was blonde," Kayleigh went on, un-swayed and unapologetic.

"Why does that matter?"

"Oh, it _matters_. She's blonde," Kayleigh declared, counting on her fingers, "she's pretty. And she's _normal._ "

Janey felt her heart swell, not even at the compliments to her physical appearance, but the praise of her being 'normal.' Kayleigh hadn't meant it as an insult anyway, Janey knew that, but to anybody else, being described as 'normal' would have been a more than demoralising comment. And yet Janey had never felt more elated.

 _Normal._

For so long, and by so many people, she had not been considered normal. And oh, how it had tormented her. But there she was, a normal girl, with a normal boyfriend, meeting his normal family, in their normal house.

If you conveniently forgot the magical abilities, that was.

"What did you expect?" Sam asked, deeply offended.

"Well –"

But Sam's stepfather intervened, perhaps in an attempt to spare Janey's feelings. (Little did he know how flattered Janey was by the whole scenario that had just transpired, and Kayleigh's sarcastic back-and-forth).

"So do you live nearby, Janey?" he asked politely.

Janey gulped.

"Err, no, she lives in London," Sam answered on Janey's behalf.

"London?"

They all looked impressed. Janey nodded meekly. "I've never been to Nottingham before," she confessed, hoping to steer the conversation away.

"Are you liking it?" Gabe enquired.

"Yes, it's beautiful."

"Very different from a city like London, I imagine," Delia interjected.

"Yeah," Janey agreed. " _Very_ different."

"So whereabouts do you live?" Gabe pressed. "I used to live in London myself. Big place," he mused. "Whereabouts are you?"

Janey looked desperately to Sam for help, though she wasn't sure why. It wasn't like he knew where she lived (he was probably as curious as his stepfather), nor would he realise why Janey didn't want to share. "Umm," she gulped, feeling her palms start to sweat (oh Merlin, Sam was going to think that was gross), "n-north London," she eventually stuttered.

Gabe just nodded.

"Barnet," Janey burst out.

His eyes lit up. "You know, I used to work there! Where, exactly?"

Janey felt like she might cry. Why, _why_ was this happening to her? But she couldn't lie to them. Could she?

What had Sam already said, she wondered. What did Sam even _know?_

"Umm…"

Everybody was looking at her curiously, politely, Sam's hand still in her own. Janey had never shied away from being the centre of the attention, but in that moment, she felt like she would do one of several things: faint, throw-up, burst into tears, or _die._ Her palms might have been sweating, but she knew all the blood had drained from her face. She imagined she looked pale and sickly, like she'd just watched someone die.

 _Surely that would be more fun than this_ , she thought darkly.

Janey swallowed the lump in her throat, struggling to find her voice. When she did finally speak, it was nothing short of meek, like she was almost _guilty_ for what she was saying. "The Bishops Avenue," she said, no more than a squeak.

Half a second passed, that was all, before Sam's stepfather's eyes lit up with astonishment. His mother just looked dazed. Kayleigh frowned, as though trying to figure out where she'd heard that name before, and then she in turn looked up, her mouth actually parting in shock.

Janey daren't even look at Sam.

But she did, frantically, needing somebody to give a vocal response. He too looked confused, and then suddenly overwhelmed, like he was _frightened._ "The Bishops Avenue?" he repeated, dropping her hand as though Janey had just told him something life-threatening. "Wait… _The_ Bishops Avenue _?_ As in _Millionaire's Row?_ " His voice had gone shrill. " _That_ 'The Bishops Avenue'?"

Janey reacted as though he'd just slapped her, struggling for breath. "Well," she stuttered, mortified by their stunned faces, "I… _yeah_ , but –"

"You live," Sam struggled to say, closing his eyes and bringing a hand to his forehead as though he was in pain, "on one of, if not _the_ most luxurious, expensive streets in the whole of London?"

Janey wished she was anywhere else in the world right then. The way he spoke to her – like she'd been concealing some dirty secret. Like she'd just confessed she'd been cheating on him since day one, or that she was a _murderer._ She had not thought her home circumstances would have been _that_ big a deal to him, and yet, this had been far from the way she intended to lay it out in the open.

She daren't even look at either of the other three – they barely knew her as it was! And now what? Now she wasn't _normal_ again, Janey thought bitterly. It had been fleeting, but oh Merlin, it had been nice to be considered normal just for once.

Sam reopened his eyes, and lowered his hand, staring at Janey with incredulousness. "Janey, are you a millionaire?" he asked bluntly, his voice slightly hoarse.

"No!" she answered impulsively, as though he'd just asked her something vile. She dropped her gaze, letting her fringe shield her from his accusatory stare. "My daddy is," she mumbled.

The silence that filled the kitchen was charged, as though coursing with electricity.

"I can see why you changed your opinion about her," Kayleigh said gleefully, after seconds of agonising silence.

Sam still looked dazed. "I didn't _know_ ," he insisted. He stared back at Janey, looking at her like he'd never looked at her before – a completely new light, like he no longer knew her at all. Janey could do nothing but blush, embarrassed and oddly ashamed by it all.

 _It doesn't change anything,_ she wanted to assure him. _It doesn't change_ us.

She had not even thought it a 'secret.' Janey had never been secretive about her upbringing – not with anybody – she just didn't overly talk about it nowadays. Students from Hogwarts came from all walks of life, united by the one thing they had in common: _magic._ She could be whoever she wanted to be, no longer restricted and limited by her childhood or her family or her upbringing, or any of that. She had never lied to Sam, never tried to conceal this truth about herself. And suddenly she felt _angry._ Why was he overreacting? Especially in front of his family!

"That's ah…" Sam's stepdad attempted, but fell short, not really sure what to say.

"Wonderful," his mother finished, shocked, but still beaming at Janey like she was the most precious thing on Earth. "Wow," she praised, politely overwhelmed.

Janey just smiled awkwardly.

"So your, ah, father," Sam's stepdad said, clearing his throat.

Janey appreciated how hard they were trying – trying to act normal about the fact that they'd just found out the girl in their house – their son's girlfriend – was a millionaire, or at least a millionaire's daughter. Wasn't it enough that she was a witch? Wasn't that enough to set her apart, she thought miserably. Fate was so cruel…

"Rupert Davington," Janey answered, herself trying to act normal about it all, yearning for that friendliness, that normalcy with which she'd previously been embraced. "He, umm, owns a computer company," she explained. "You know, computer technology and laptops and stuff…"

" _Davington?"_ Kayleigh piped up. "Like, that logo that's the little swirly 'D'? The one on the computers? The one that's on my freaking _laptop_ upstairs?"

Janey was once again wishing fate would be kind enough to just let her _die._ "Err, yeah," she said meekly. "I guess…"

Kayleigh let out a noise, somewhere mingled between awe and disbelief. She stood up from the table, coming towards them. Sam was still too shocked to be overly vocal. "Not only is she cute and blonde and pretty and all that," Kayleigh praised him, completely overwhelmed. "Forget the _magic_ stuff. Your girlfriend is not only a _millionaire_ , she's also the daughter of one of the most esteemed technologists in modern business?"

Sam just looked dazed.

"Way to go, loser! How did you score her?" Kayleigh demanded. "How did _you_ hit such a jackpot?"

Sam made a noncommittal noise, no longer capable of saying actual words.

"Kayleigh, don't talk about Janey like that," Sam's mum said uncomfortably. "She's not a… a _thing_ ," she said warily, eyeing the poor girl. "She's not a _jackpot._ "

But Janey didn't mind. She much preferred the sarcastic girl's reaction to that of her own boyfriend's immense disbelief. At least Kayleigh was treating her – well, not as though she were normal anymore, but _not_ normal in a positive way, at least. Sam was just treating her with complete and utter shock, like she was no longer the person he had known ten minutes ago.

Maybe she wasn't, she thought drily. Maybe this was all just too much for him.

Kayleigh turned to Janey with glittering eyes. "I can tell we're gonna be _great_ friends."

"Kayleigh, why don't you go and get Zoe and Morgan," her dad suggested. "Tell them dinner's nearly ready."

She rolled her eyes but did so anyway.

"It was so lovely that you could come," Sam's mum gushed to Janey, as though the awkward revealing of her millionaire status had not just occurred. "We've heard so much about you – Sam never stops!"

"Mum," Sam said warily, finally finding his voice again.

"It's my pleasure," Janey replied, sounding shy. Oh, if only she'd known how Janey had overreacted at the suggestion when Sam had first brought it up.

"Do you enjoy school?"

"I love it."

"And I take it that your, ah, your family isn't…"

"Magical?" Janey queried. Sam's mum nodded. "No," Janey agreed. "No, they're both Muggles." She paused. Was that a term Sam used around them? Was it impolite to use? "None of us really knew what to think when the letter came."

"Was quite a shock to me too," Sam's stepfather said kindly. " _Big_ shock."

"I didn't tell him my first husband was a wizard," Sam's mum explained with a smile, like she was sharing an in-joke. "I thought it might scare him off. So that was rather difficult to explain when an owl dropped a letter on our doorstep for Sam."

Janey laughed politely. They were such a happy, _normal_ family – despite one of them being a wizard. It was refreshing.

"Do you have siblings?" Sam's mum went on eagerly.

"No," Janey replied. "No, it's, ah, it's just me. Although I did find out recently that I have a half-sister."

Sam's mum looked curious.

"My parents aren't together," Janey explained. "Not anymore. And, well, my father didn't even know he had another daughter. Oddly enough, I was actually really close with her at school."

When Sam made no comment – not even so much as a sarcastic sort of snort – Janey knew she was in trouble. Her and Jinx hadn't _ever_ been close. Not until only very recently. They had been the exact opposite, and Sam knew this all too well. But he said nothing to contradict her; he just looked vague.

"Oh, that must be lovely," Sam's mum continued to gush. "What a lovely surprise that must have been."

 _Yeah_ , Janey thought darkly, still furious at her father. _Lovely._

"Well, we might as well get this served up," Sam's stepdad announced, indicating to the kitchen.

Sam's mum suddenly looked to Janey with worry. "Do you like casserole?" she asked nervously. "Because Sam didn't know, so I just made it, but I can always –"

"No, that's fine," Janey insisted, offering a genuine smile. "Casserole would be lovely."

Sam's mum beamed, like Janey had just told her she and Sam were getting married or something equally overwhelming. "Wonderful!" she declared, clapping her hands together. "It won't be long."

"Would you like any help, Mrs, err –" Janey stopped abruptly, never having established whether Sam's mum went by Tyler or something else.

"Oh, call me Delia," she insisted. "But Mrs Tyler, for the record," she explained, unknowingly answering Janey's burning question. "We're all Tylers – Sam and I both changed our names when I married Gabe."

Well, that was one mystery solved.

"And don't even think about helping," she jokingly scolded. "You're our guest. You just sit down and enjoy yourself."

As Mr and Mrs Tyler (there was no way in hell Janey was going to call them 'Delia and Gabe') set about serving up the dinner, Sam and Janey found themselves somewhat alone. He had gone remarkably pale, still staring at her in shock.

"What?" she demanded, suitably angry now that they were mostly out of earshot of his parents.

Sam blinked, coming back to reality. "I – nothing," he mumbled.

"Then stop staring at me like I'm an alien," Janey hissed. "Okay? What's the big deal?"

"The big _deal_ ," Sam said furiously, lowering his voice so his parents couldn't hear, but matching Janey's anger, "is that you didn't _once_ mention the little fact that _you are a freaking millionaire!"_

"So?" Janey demanded. "It wasn't a secret. Rose knew, Taylor knew, Gwen knew – I'm pretty sure James knew, and –"

" _I_ didn't know," Sam pointed out.

"And why does it matter now that you do?" Janey challenged. "Why does that make _any_ difference? Either to who I am as a person, or our relationship or anything?"

Sam drew a blank. "Well," he spluttered, "well, no, it doesn't. But –"

"Sam, my father has been a millionaire since before I was born. He was a millionaire when he married my mum – looking back, that's probably _why_ she married him – he was a millionaire when I was born, he was a millionaire when I started Hogwarts – he has _always_ been a millionaire," she emphasised. " _I_ have always been a millionaire's daughter. This is not something I kept from you, this is just something about my life that I guess never really came up. It doesn't change _anything._ "

"It's a pretty big secret," he mumbled sulkily.

"It wasn't a secret!"

"You never told me you lived in a mansion."

"You never told me you lived in Nottingham," Janey retaliated.

Sam just stared at her in confusion. "What?"

"I only _just_ found out you live in Nottingham," Janey pointed out. "I only _just_ found out you have a dog, and that you have a stepfather, and that –"

"What are you talking about?"

"My point is that we don't know anything about each other! We knew _very_ little about each other before we got together, and we're only just learning stuff about our families and our home lives and stuff. So _stop_ acting like I kept this huge secret from you. Like this hasn't been the first real opportunity to talk about and learn this kind of thing about each other!"

Sam was silenced. He knew he was being unreasonable and that Janey was, of course, right (not that he'd admit that to her). It was just such a huge shock. He felt inadequate in comparison to her and this huge reveal. Embarrassingly so. What was Janey, a millionaire's daughter, doing with the likes of him?

But he had to think about what she was desperately trying to say. All this time she'd been living a different life to his own, that was true, but nothing had changed. He _was_ overreacting. She was the same Janey she had always been, and the one she'd always be. And yes, she was right. Nothing, other than his new realisation, had changed. She had always been this way; he just hadn't known about it. He immediately felt guilty for his overreaction.

"Guess we're just learning stuff about each other," Sam said sheepishly, eyes shining with the apology he couldn't bring his lips to say.

"Yeah," Janey said calmly. "One thing I've learnt?" she asked, immediately light and playful.

"What?"

"Your stepsister's _way_ cooler than you."

Sam broke out into a grin. "Oh yeah?" he asked.

"Definitely," Janey teased. She let out a squeal as Sam caught her round the waist, just like he had done that day at the beach. Mrs Tyler looked over from the other side of the kitchen in alarm.

"She's fine," Sam called back reassuringly, keeping one hand placed on Janey's back as she stifled her laughter. Sam's mum watched them fondly. "We should sit down," he suggested, ushering her over to the table. "I'm proud of you," Sam said in a low, warm voice once the two were settled.

Janey just beamed. She was still incredibly nervous about the whole affair, but Sam was certainly putting her at ease. Kayleigh strolled back into the kitchen before the two could have much more of a private moment, two younger children, both brunette, in tow.

"Hey," Sam greeted excitedly. The girl, Zoe, peered at Janey shyly in response, not even looking at her half-brother. "She's my girlfriend," Sam said proudly, causing Janey to blush and smile herself.

A light seemed to go off in Zoe's head. "Isabella?" she asked innocently.

Janey's smile fell immediately.

"Err, n-no," Sam gulped, not even daring to look at Janey. "No, Zoe, not… her. This is –"

"Rose?"

" _No_." Sam looked like he might cry. He'd gone suitably red, still refusing to look at Janey. "No… Rose was not… _ever…_ my, umm, girlfriend."

"Tell me about it," Kayleigh said under her breath, rolling her eyes.

Janey actually found it amusing, especially Sam's great discomfort. He _had_ been pretty obsessed with Rose.

"This is _Janey_ ," Sam said clearly. "And, err, this," he said, looking apologetically at Janey and indicating to the twins, "is Zoe and Morgan."

"Hi," Janey said warmly. Both just stared at her.

It was Zoe who spoke again. "The mean girl?"

"Yes," Janey answered before Sam could. She was grinning broadly. "That would be me."

"Yeah, okay, don't say things like that," Sam scolded his half-sister, his face still flushed.

"But you said –"

"I said a lot of things," Sam interrupted. He looked apologetically at Janey, who merely continued smiling at him in response. "But I was wrong."

"Are you a wizard?" the boy, Morgan, demanded, his first words since entering the kitchen.

"I'm a witch," Janey said politely.

Morgan looked impressed but Zoe's eyes positively lit up. "Can you do magic?" she breathed.

"I can," Janey said proudly.

"Like a fairy?"

"Yeah, sort of. I mean, fairies don't really wield a lot of magic themselves, but err, but that's a different conversation. For all intents and purposes, yes."

"Can you do some now?" Morgan asked.

"No," Janey apologised. "No, I'm not actually allowed. I'm not old enough to do magic outside of school yet – if I do then they'll expel me."

Zoe and Morgan both looked disappointed. "That's what Sam always says," Zoe pouted.

"Yeah, well, if Sam says that anymore then he's a liar," Janey said brightly. " _He_ can do magic outside of school now. _He's_ old enough."

Sam's half-siblings turned to glare at their brother with accusation. "Thanks, Janey," Sam said sarcastically.

"You don't want to see Sam do magic anyway," Janey went on. "He's not very good."

That prompted a few sniggers, causing Janey to light up inside. Okay, sure, she didn't really like children that much, and she'd been worried about how she'd come across to Sam's ten-year-old half-siblings, but despite the Isabella/Rose mishap, Janey seemed to be making a good impression. She felt pleasantly surprised by herself.

Sam just shook his head whilst Janey smirked at him. "I just can't catch a break," he sighed.

"Do you have a magic wand?" Zoe went on eagerly.

"I do," Janey said. "But again, I'm not allowed to use it."

"Do you have it with you?" Morgan asked, equally as eager. "Can we see it?"

"I don't think that's a good idea," Sam intervened, but Janey was already pulling out her wand.

"It's fine," she assured him. "They're Muggles, they can't _use_ it."

"Yeah, but –"

"Don't be a tight-arse," Kayleigh scoffed, clearly as interested in seeing Janey's wand as the twins were.

"Yeah, Sam," Janey teased, "don't be a tight-arse."

"Fine," he relented, as Janey handed it over to the awestruck ten-year-olds.

"Woah," they both breathed, completely enchanted.

"Twelve and a half inches," Janey boasted. "Maple wood. Unicorn hair core."

"Have you _seen_ a unicorn?" Zoe asked, her excitement unmatchable.

"I certainly have."

The young girl's eyes lit up. "Yours is so much prettier than Sam's," she breathed, stroking a hand over the delicate carvings of Janey's wand. "His is just boring."

"Honestly," Sam sighed, "the amount of abuse I'm getting today…"

"That's because _I'm_ so much prettier than Sam," Janey teased, prompting laughter from them all.

"Alright," Sam agreed, "I can't argue with that."

"Okay, sit down everybody, dinner's served," Mrs Tyler called from the other side of the kitchen. Zoe reluctantly handed Janey's wand back to her, as she and Morgan scrabbled for their seats, Kayleigh quickly slipping in next to Janey.

Janey did a quick tot-up, certain they were missing somebody. Wasn't there another one? Didn't Sam have an elder stepbrother too?

"Elliot's working," Sam explained, "as though reading Janey's thoughts. "Unlike _some_ people" – he glared at Kayleigh – "he's actually moved out and done something with his life. He's hoping to stop by later though. You might get to meet him."

"I'm exactly where I want to be," Kayleigh retorted in response.

"Yeah," Sam mumbled, "and exactly where others _don't_ want you to be."

"Well, for your information –"

"Kayleigh, Sam, stop it," Mrs Tyler interrupted, appearing with platefuls of steaming casserole, the first of which she set down before Janey. "No arguing at dinner."

"Thank you," Janey said politely, in response to her dinner, "this looks lovely, Mrs Tyler."

" _Delia,_ " Mrs Tyler insisted, but she was beaming nonetheless.

And dinner _was_ lovely, Janey thought happily as the meal progressed, not just physically but socially as well. She was freaking out, of course – as lovely as the Tylers were, she was still overwhelmed that she was in the presence of her boyfriend's family – but it really wasn't as bad as she'd feared it would be. Certainly not worth having broken up with him over, like she'd threatened to.

And it was a new experience for Janey, sharing a meal in such a way. She was used to grand feasts at Hogwarts of course, surrounded by hundreds of other people, but at home she mostly ate alone, and if she ever did eat with her dad, it was just the two of them. She'd never had siblings – she didn't even have cousins. The light-hearted back-and-forth, the warm, buzzing atmosphere – this was all brand new to Janey. And she _liked_ it. She felt, actually, like she was a part of it, and not just an intruder.

Sam's left hand had found its way onto Janey's thigh, shielded from the rest of the table, prompting a private, coy smile from herself. Just resting there protectively, as casually as though he was holding her hand, instilling her further with confidence and ease.

As dinner was finished, and Mrs Tyler began clearing the table, Sam took hold of Janey's hand and leaned in. "You okay?" he asked gently.

Janey wanted to cry at how supportive and encouraging he was being, feeling ever embarrassed by her initial overreaction. Sam had been right, of course – they _were_ lovely people, and they did seem to genuinely like her.

"Yeah," she whispered back, smiling sincerely.

"Do you want me to show you the rest of the house?" he suggested.

Janey considered it and agreed. It would be nice to have a few moments alone with him, and she was curious to see the rest of the Tyler dwelling, having only seen the hallway and kitchen/dining room. She wondered what Sam's bedroom looked like…

As Sam pushed his chair away from the table, Janey followed his lead, Mrs Tyler looked at them sharply from across the room, where she was loading plates into a dishwasher. "Sam, where are you going?" she asked frantically.

"Nowhere," he shrugged, "I was just gonna show Janey around the rest of the house quickly."

"Oh, but we haven't had dessert yet and –"

"Yeah, that's fine, we'll be quick and then we'll be back."

"But –"

Sam ignored his mother's continued protests, leading Janey with him. She felt guilty as she followed Sam, not wanting to upset his mother. But Sam had hold of her hand, and soon enough they were out of the room.

The rest of Sam's house was much like the few rooms she'd already seen. Warm, homely, with plenty of evidence of the family's presence – more photos and knick-knacks and such. The living room even had a cosy little fireplace. Passing Rusty the dog on the stairs, Janey's heart suddenly lurched as she realised they were surely nearing Sam's bedroom.

He didn't take her in the other rooms, just pointing out whose was whose. Until finally they stood in front of a door at the end of the landing, a handmade sign that said 'Sam' hastily taped on. If Janey wasn't very much mistaken, Sam actually looked nervous. "This, ah," he gulped, after a moment's hesitance, "is my room."

He pushed the door open. Janey, nervous but also excited, followed him inside.

The first thing that struck her was the bunk beds. The second was the Star Wars memorabilia.

It was a standard boy's room – a blue colour scheme, wardrobe, dresser, TV and PlayStation, posters and random clutter – smaller than the dorm rooms at Hogwarts, and far smaller than Janey's own excessive bedroom. Janey could see Sam watching her out of the corner of her eye, nervously waiting for her to pass judgement.

"Bunk beds," Janey said, smiling endearingly.

"Yeah," Sam gulped. "Me and Elliot used to share until he moved out."

"You sleep bottom or top?"

Sam laughed nervously. "Bottom."

Janey took a few steps forward, suddenly wringing her hands. "I don't know why I'm so nervous," she gulped.

Sam's eyes widened. "To… to be in my bedroom?" he asked uncertainly. Had she misunderstood why he'd wanted to bring her there!?

Janey rolled her eyes, turning to look at him from across the room. "No, just _here_ in general. In your house. With your family."

"Janey," Sam laughed affectionately. He closed the door behind him before resting his back against it. "You're doing great. You're _fine._ "

"I'm not usually like this."

 _You're telling me_ , Sam thought.

He knew exactly why Janey was so nervous, but he daren't even think it to himself, let alone speak the words to her out loud. She was nervous because it _mattered._ Because Janey needed to make a good impression, she needed to fit in with this family and feel at home. Because, and Sam felt arrogant to even think about it, Janey deeply cared for Sam. For the first time in her life she was _really_ feeling something for someone. For the first time in her life she was serious about her relationship, and every single aspect – _especially_ fitting in with her boyfriend's family – needed to be right. It needed to be perfect. And if it wasn't, it would break her.

"I'm really glad you came today," Sam told her sincerely. "I told you it would be fine. I told you they'd all love you."

Janey smiled sheepishly. "You did," she admitted. "But I never like to believe you."

"Oh, don't I know it," Sam teased.

Janey laughed too. She began walking around the room, inspecting various things. Sam just watched it all with his back pressed against the door, curious as to what was going through her mind. (And also curious as to what _her_ childhood bedroom looked like).

"Star Wars," Janey mused with a smirk, taking in the vast posters and cluttered action figures.

"Yeah," Sam admitted, feeling slightly self-conscious. "I was pretty into it when I was younger."

"And you're not anymore?" Janey teased, picking up a Lego Millennium Falcon.

"Not if you think that makes me really nerdy."

"I would."

"Then no."

"But I'd also find it really cute."

"Then _yes._ "

Janey smirked, placing it back down. "Episode Seven was my favourite," she casually piped up. "The Force Awakens."

Sam's eyes just widened.

Janey turned to him and raised her eyebrows. "I was a nerd before Hogwarts."

Sam was grinning. "Like hell you were."

Janey had made her way over to the bed, looking at it with great curiosity. She'd never been in a bunk bed. Her tiny little Gryffindor one was a huge sacrifice compared to her queen-sized one at home, but in some ways it was more welcoming. She settled herself onto the bottom bunk, curiously peering around the rest of the room.

Sam came and sat beside her. He had to hunch slightly, due to his height. Janey happily kicked her legs out. "I like it," she told him approvingly, looking around the room. "It's _sexy._ "

"Shut up," Sam snorted.

It was then that he realised that Janey and he were sat on a bed together. _They were on a bed together._

True, it was a bunk bed, and they were literally just sat there on the edge, but _still_ , he felt suddenly flustered at the implication. And not just any random bed – _his_ bed. Sam stole a nervous glance at Janey to see if she'd realised this too, and if so, how she felt about it. She just smiled at him, either oblivious or completely at ease.

 _Well_ , Sam reasoned, it wasn't like they were going to _do_ anything. It wasn't like, just because they were a couple, and they were seventeen, and they were alone in his bedroom, sat on his bed, that anything was going to happen. His whole family was right downstairs for goodness sake.

She had said it was sexy though.

 _That was a joke_ , Sam scolded himself. _She wasn't being serious._

But still… _sexy._

Looking down at Janey, thinking about how nice it had been when he'd put his hand on her thigh at dinner – something he'd done with perfectly innocent intentions, just to silently reassure her without his family seeing - Sam swallowed the lump in his throat and leaned in.

Janey's eyes had briefly flickered to his mouth before darting back to his eyes, but Sam had noticed it. He knew what she was thinking. He knew what was on her mind. Her smile was suddenly flirtatious.

Sam kissed her gently but intimately, drawing her bottom lip in. It seemed odd to him, to think that a month ago this had seemed so unnatural and confusing. Now it was as easy as breathing. He rather feared he'd become just as dependent on it too. To suddenly be deprived of kissing Janey… well, he didn't know what he'd do.

He could feel her smiling – always a good sign – responding to him with gentleness and grace, a stolen private moment for the young lovers.

And now they were a seventeen-year-old couple, alone in his bedroom, sat on his bed, _kissing_ , Sam thought, terrified by the notion but finding far too much enjoyment in it to stop.

Janey's hands were gripping at his waist, as though holding him steady whilst she worked her mouth. Sam was starting to lose himself, and she too, in the sheer passion and _heat_ the kiss was quickly picking up. And just as abruptly as it started, it ended.

The door burst open. Sam responded with lightning reflexes, standing up from the bed, slamming his head into the top bunk, and swearing loudly.

"Hi, Sam," Kayleigh said brightly, leaning on the doorframe and smiling sadistically as he winced in pain. Janey just blinked in surprise from where she was still sat on the bed, confused as to what had just happened

"Kayleigh," Sam growled, "don't you know how to knock?"

Sam's stepsister folded her arms, a knowing smirk on her lips. "I do," she agreed. "But I decided not to in case I caught you in a compromising position." She looked pointedly at Janey, the girls exchanging a smile.

Whilst Janey just sat there impassively, finding the whole thing funny, if not a little embarrassing, Sam had gone beetroot red, seething with mortified anger. "Get out!" he roared.

Kayleigh pouted. "Delia sent me up here to tell you to come back down for dessert. Although" – she smirked at Janey, offering a wink – "looks like you've already had some."

Sam just spluttered, his face still unattractively maroon. "And she couldn't have just _yelled_ , or knocked, or –"

Kayleigh interrupted, blunt and nonchalant. "She sent me up here because she thinks you're" – she raised her eyebrows in a suggestive manner – "well, _you_ know."

If Sam had been red before…

"I – _what?"_

"You ran off to your bedroom with your girlfriend," she innocently explained. "I mean, come on, none of us think you have it in you, but you know what your mum's like."

Janey, who was embarrassed but mostly amused by the exchange, was struggling not to laugh, knowing it would just infuriate Sam more. He, on the other hand, was freaking _out_. "That's not funny!" he yelled.

"I'm being deadly serious," Kayleigh snorted.

"Yeah, well," Sam spluttered, "I wasn't – we're not – we were just –"

"Showing her around, I know."

Sam glared at her.

"Showing her around your mouth…"

Sam made a sudden movement, but Kayleigh was quicker, ducking out of his way. "You can't hit me!" she shrieked, still smirking, clearly loving taunting her younger stepbrother.

"But we weren't… we weren't _doing_ anything," Sam said helplessly.

"Well," Kayleigh smirked, "you were doing _something._ "

"Yes, but not _that._ "

Kayleigh raised her hands in defence. "Hey, don't yell at me. Tell that to your mum."

"No!" _The very notion._

"Well then, idiot, don't sneak off and bring girls up to your room and shut the door. Even though we all know this is the first, and probably _only_ girl you'll ever have in your room."

Janey felt somewhat flattered.

"Kayleigh!" Sam roared.

" _What?_ " she sighed. "Just go back downstairs and try not to look so guilty."

Sam was glowering, but he didn't say anything else as he shoved past her, not even waiting for Janey. Kayleigh was still smirking as Janey stood up and made towards the door. She and Kayleigh made eye contact; the latter looked impressed. "Is he a good kisser?" she asked, half teasing and half generally curious.

"Yeah," Janey smirked. "He's alright."

"I can _hear_ you," Sam yelled from somewhere on the stairs.

Both Janey and Kayleigh laughed as they followed after him.

Sam was mortified. Not only because his mother had so readily assumed he and Janey were both _that_ serious in their physical relationship, and so wildly lustful that they had to run off to satiate their needs with his entire family just downstairs, but because Kayleigh had also been so blunt and un-shameful about it in front of Janey. Merlin knows things were moving fast between them, but they were _far_ from where they were all insinuating, despite Sam's wandering mind just before the actual kiss.

He hadn't dared look at Janey during the exchange, knowing she'd be as mortified as himself. When it came to the seriousness of their relationship, and taking big steps, she freaked out. And obviously what Kayleigh had implied would be _huge_ for them. Her crass attitude could have sent Janey over the edge – she'd freak out.

Or _would_ she, Sam reasoned. Janey had always been quite lax when it came to their physical relationship. She seemed to be progressing _that_ at a much more rapid pace than their emotional one.

But Sam didn't want to think about it. They were seventeen; it was just a joke they could look back on. They had a whole year at Hogwarts to go, and he didn't even know if Janey and he would see it through…

Janey, on the other hand, as she complacently followed Sam down the stairs, _was_ embarrassed. She had found it deeply funny – not only Kayleigh's attitude and the implications she was suggesting, but Sam's wild overreaction to it. And despite his concerns for how she wold have received it, Janey didn't actually mind the jokey implications that she and Sam were, well, _active_ in that sense. No, that didn't frighten or offend her, but now she was just embarrassed. Had Sam's mum really thought that or was Kayleigh just messing with him?

Because if so, well, that was humiliating!

 _Did_ they think – Mr and Mrs Tyler – that Sam and Janey's relationship was already that serious? What kind of girl did they think she was – that if that were the case she'd just happily run off in the middle of dinner, having known them for all of an hour, and perform scandalous acts with their son under their own roof!?

Merlin, no, Janey would be far more subtle about it…

Sam didn't even look at her as they made their way back into the kitchen, just looking sulky about it all.

"Sam was just showing Janey his Star Wars collection," Kayleigh piped up wickedly.

Mrs Tyler, who had been eyeing the two as they made their way back into the room with concerned curiosity, visibly relaxed. "Oh, that's lovely," she said.

"Yeah, Janey thought so," Kayleigh murmured.

Sam was still scowling as they all sat back down, and Mrs Tyler began serving dessert – homemade trifle. Janey couldn't imagine homemade _anything_ in her house. At least, not homemade by either herself or her father – that's what the chef was for, after all.

She tried to catch Sam's eye but he was still sulking as he spooned at his trifle. So Janey tried something else. Imitating his reassuring gesture from before, she placed her free hand on his thigh. Sam nearly dropped his spoon in shock. But it had the desired effect, as he finally looked at her, only to be greeted by a sincere, reassuring smile on Janey's behalf, which he quickly and gladly returned.

And just like that, everything was good, and calm, and beautiful.

* * *

 _ **Author's Note:** This chapter was really long when I completed it so consider this to be a 'Part 1' of this particular little episode, with 'Part 2' coming next week._

 _Italicised extract at the beginning from Chapter 72 'The Truth About Janey' from Rose and Scorpius: A Forbidden Love. Title inspiration from McFly's 'Do Ya.'_

 _*sorry for all the new characters*_

 _Okay, so I never really intended to give Sam such an extended family, but I was looking back through A Forbidden Love and in Chapter 3 I had him telling Rose about his family and all his various siblings and so, for the sake of consistency, decided to keep them and explore them. If anybody's interested, I resembled Kayleigh on the actress Kaya Scodelario. I actually wanted to call her Kyla at first but realised that 'Kyla Tyler' would be a bit weird, and did a poll on my Twitter - Kayleigh was the chosen name :)_

 _Sam's mum 'Delia' I kind of based, physically, on the actress Mary Streenburgen (maybe ten years younger though) and actually chose the name Delia because of her character in Orange Is The New Black_

 _Anyway, just thought I'd let you know in case you want help visualising! I didn't put as much thought into the others so I don't have any actors to base them off of. And hey, don't forget to follow my fanfic-centric Twitter account HolyheadEver if you want other updates and random tidbits of info ;)_

 _PS. Sorry my uploading schedule's been a bit dodgy :/_


	11. Heartbeat

_**Author's Note:** Many apologies for the unexplained three-week hiatus! I didn't intend for that to happen, I've just been so busy with real life and with the Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition. But I'm all set to get this story back to regular uploads. After this one, uploads will go back to every Saturday (including this Saturday). Again, so sorry for the interruption!_

* * *

 **Chapter 11 – Heartbeat**

* * *

 _Am I alone in your heart?_ _  
_ _Have I a hope with your heart?_ _  
_ _She's such a teaser, she's such a star_ _  
_ _Give me a reason or give me a chance_ _  
_ _Am I alone in your heart? Am I alone?_ _  
_ _It tears me apart_

 _Doing all I can do, just to be close to you_ _  
_ _Every time that we meet, I skip a heartbeat_ _  
_ _Always up for a laugh, she's a pain in the arse_ _  
_ _Every time that we meet, I skip a heartbeat_

* * *

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" Janey teased as Sam went to close his bedroom door.

Sam blushed, hesitated, scowled, and then slammed the door with such a definitive thud that the frame actually rattled. Everybody downstairs must have heard it. Even more aggressively, he then took out his wand, aimed it at the handle and angrily muttered _"Colloportus."_

Janey just raised her eyebrows from the centre of the room, amused by his behaviour. "Goodness, Sam," she drawled in somewhat of a sultry voice, "what are you planning on doing to me?"

"Stop it," he said, turning to glare at her with an irritable expression. He pocketed his wand. "It's not funny."

"It _is_ funny," Janey countered.

"No, it's _embarrassing_. It's—it's mortifying! I don't want my mum to think that…" But he couldn't even say it. Naïve and flustered as he was, Janey found it endearing.

"Yeah?" she asked, looking pointedly at the door he'd slammed and then locked with magic. "And you really think this was the best course of action to dissuade such speculations?"

Sam frowned. "Everybody is just… overreacting," he said furiously. "And if they want to, err, _assume_ things that are"—he gulped—"far from the truth, then that's their fault. And I'm not even going to argue. It's just stupid and… and immature."

Janey was desperately trying not to snigger at Sam's growing aggravation. Why was he so desperately adverse to the idea that his family thought she and him were in such an _adult_ relationship? Insecurity, she wondered. Maybe it was Sam. Maybe he was so terrified by the implications because he was terrified of the prospect.

How endearing, Janey mused internally. And how startlingly different that set she and Sam apart. One scared of a physical commitment, longing for romance and emotional stability. The other terrified of that emotional commitment and perfectly indifferent to the physical progression.

If there had ever been a sign at how completely opposed to each other this couple was, that should have been it, but Janey pushed it aside. All relationships were complicated—no one was _completely_ perfect for any one person.

Janey wasn't sure why Sam had brought her so hurriedly up to his bedroom again after dessert, especially given what had happened the first time. Janey had gone with him politely, but she couldn't pretend she hadn't seen Mrs Tyler's nervous and speculative gaze flicker towards them as they departed.

At first, she had considered it was for her own sake. Sam, bless his heart, had been doing all he could to make Janey feel at ease in the Tyler household—to make her feel comfortable and welcome— and she truly did. She was still greatly nervous, of course, but she was coping. He had known how huge a step it was for her, and having been the one to push her, wanted to make it worthwhile. Janey had assumed his hurry to isolate her from his family had been to give her space to breathe—to relax and compose herself.

But now she wasn't so sure. Perhaps, really, it had been for _his_ sake. Sam did look incredibly nervous, and every little thing was setting him on edge. Was that just because he was worked up from his mum's misunderstanding? Did the thought of a physical relationship (with Janey? at the ripe age of seventeen?) really scare him so much?

Or maybe it had nothing to do with that. Maybe, like Janey, it was the seriousness of bringing a girl home to his family for the first time. Maybe it was because of his stepsister's constant jibes, or even Janey's gentle teasing. Maybe he just needed space for himself.

Or with Janey.

Maybe, after three days of separation, he just wanted to be alone with her for a bit, even in the most innocent of contexts. They were still fresh in their relationship after all; they needed time alone, still exploring, still getting to know each other.

Janey smiled at him, trying to put him at ease (what a humorous turn-around). "So," she said playfully, "now that you've _got_ me here, what _do_ you want to do with me? Lightsaber battle?" she teased, picking up a cheap, broken replica.

Sam's serious expression hadn't changed, not even breaking into a gentle smile at Janey's comment. He visibly gulped. "Do you want to lie down?" he suggested, after a moment's hesitation, full of tentativeness.

Janey was so shocked, she nearly dropped the lightsaber. She blushed as she turned away from Sam, hurriedly putting it back where it had come from and desperately trying to figure out what had just been asked of her.

Had she imagined that or had Sam, in all seriousness, just suggested they lie down? As in, on his bed together?

Is that what had happened? Had she misheard? Was she just misunderstanding?

Janey looked back at Sam for some kind of elaboration, or for him to burst into laughter and announce it was a joke. But he looked just as serious and just as nervous as before. Janey's mind went into sudden turmoil. Sam had just been _freaking_ _out_ at the mere implication of him and Janey being 'that' kind of intimate in their so far pretty reserved relationship, making it perfectly clear it was putting him well out of his comfort zone.

Everything in Sam's expression let Janey know that his feelings hadn't changed. He hadn't been overcome by some wild lust or something. He still looked as nervous and on edge as before.

Janey felt her cheeks burn hot again. Sam hadn't asked her to _sleep_ with him, she realised. He'd merely asked if she wanted to lie down—it was her own mind jumping to conclusions. "Yeah, sure," she forced herself to say, in a confident and casual manner. _No_ _big_ _deal_ , she thought to herself. Just hanging out, lying down with her boyfriend on his bed.

It was logical, she even reasoned with herself. There wasn't anywhere to sit in Sam's room—other than the bunk bed. And as proven from before, he was too tall to comfortably sit on it. Why not lie down?

 _Innocent_ —that's all that was. Janey had been overthinking it. But then why did Sam look so nervous?

And why had he locked the door?

Janey was not frightened of intimacy. That was the thought in her mind as she confidently ducked down onto the lower bunk, not wanting Sam to think she might think of it as a big deal. No, she wasn't afraid of _physical_ intimacy—just emotional.

Sam had not realised how small his bed was—barely wider than his one at Hogwarts—as he settled onto it, Janey moving over to make as much room for him as she could. She looked remarkably calm for what Sam had just suggested, he thought.

And he was _angry_ at himself. He had realised, only when the words had left his lips, what a weird thing it had been to say, especially considering what Sam's mother had so readily assumed had been going on earlier, and no doubt what she was thinking just then.

It had just been too much for Sam. His family was so overbearing, and he'd felt too under scrutiny, just wanting some time with Janey _alone._ Kayleigh was irritating him, constantly making jibes and trying to undermine him, and Zoe's innocent confusion of which girl Janey was (out of Rose, Isabella, and obviously Janey herself) was starting to make him uncomfortable—for Janey's sake.

Sam hadn't realised the implications of what he was asking of Janey until after the words had been spoken aloud. After all that humiliating back-and-forth, both with Kayleigh _and_ Janey, about, well, _intimacy_ , it hadn't crossed his mind that his abrupt suggestion that he and Janey lie down might have come across as… _suggestive_. Especially given that it was now clearly on all their minds.

He hadn't been implying anything less than innocent.

Well, you know, not _that_ much. He'd been hoping to finish that short-lived snog they'd started earlier, which Kayleigh had so rudely (and painfully) interrupted—hence why he'd locked the door. And he'd just thought it might be more comfortable to lie down rather than sit at that awkward angle.

But Sam realised now, how it might have come across to Janey. And he was _mortified._

And yet she seemed to be fine with it, he thought suspiciously. Maybe he was overthinking it all, and she hadn't even considered what he feared she'd been thinking he'd implied. Or maybe it just wasn't that big a deal to her as it apparently was to him. Either way, Sam had suggested it, she was willing, he wasn't going to backtrack now.

Sam found himself less nervous settling onto the tiny mattress beside Janey than he had done on that night in the Gryffindor Common Room, where she'd taken him by surprise by asking if she could sit with him in the armchair. They hadn't even been dating back then, Sam thought with a fond smile. It had all been so new and terrifyingly exciting. And now, lying peacefully on the bed with her, so close their noses were practically touching, staring deep into each other's eyes and sharing that same fond smile, Sam fully appreciated how much easier it had gotten with Janey.

Yes, they were still progressing, and yes, they were still nervous and uncertain about each other, but there was certainly a much more confident sense of ease between them —something friendly and warm. It was then, in that moment, when Sam really thought of Janey as his girlfriend, and not just some girl he was testing the waters with.

"I like your family," Janey murmured to him, looking happy and peaceful.

"And to think you didn't want to come," Sam gently teased back. Janey's short hair looked so much longer when it was hanging down onto the pillow like that. Her eyelashes were really quite long too—something Sam hadn't taken the time to memorise yet. It was weird—seeing her on her side. A new angle, a new light.

"Yeah, okay, I guess you were right."

Sam just grinned. "It's been known to happen."

Janey laughed—a cute, twinkly laugh, not at all cohesive with her normally brash and abrasive demeanour. She pulled herself closer, not that there was really that much distance between them anyway, flirtatiously peering up through those impossibly long lashes.

Sam had little time to try and figure out how a sideways-lying-snog might work before it was happening. Just like the armchair kiss, Janey didn't dive straight in. She simply placed her lips against his, just delicately brushing the surface, before applying a fraction more pressure, slightly parting his lips with her own.

Both Sam's breath and heart seemed to shudder, but he liked it. Lying down didn't seem to provide any more difficult dynamics than standing up or sitting down seemed to. But again, it was something new for them to explore together.

Their bodies were already huddled up together, legs casually snaked through each other, but Sam took the opportunity, as Janey gently gripped at the front of his shirt, to run his hand over her hip and onto her waist. He was slowly gaining more confidence when it came to this kind of thing, no longer terrified by the mere _thought_ of putting his hands anywhere on her body that wasn't her shoulders or something ridiculous. Especially in private.

Well, that is, Sam _thought_ he was more than confident about it all. Until Janey, as per usual, threw him out of his depth. _And just when Sam had been starting to think there could be no more surprises._

Kissing him, not more frantically as such, but just more deeply, Janey took hold of Sam's hand from where he'd so happily placed it on her waist and moved it upwards along her body until it was resting on her upper ribcage.

Sam had to open his eyes to check what had just happened. His hand, whilst not actually fully clasping her breast ( _oh God, he couldn't handle this)_ , was now just kind of resting on the side, in much the same way it had been so comfortably resting on her hip before she'd moved it. Though the palm was most definitely mostly on Janey's ribcage, the tips of his fingers could feel the slight protrusion of her chest.

Sam froze. Was this second base?

But no, he was barely even touching her. And yet, he was certainly touching _something._ Something he hadn't ever touched before. And he'd thought squeezing her bum had been a big move…

Maybe it wasn't what he thought, Sam reasoned. Maybe Janey just hadn't liked his hand being on her waist, and she'd moved it for comfort.

But naïve as he was, Sam knew that wasn't true. Janey had moved his hand with purpose, with calm and casual control—perhaps to let him know it was okay for him to touch her there. Perhaps to see where he would take this new initiative—a curious test of sorts.

What was she expecting, Sam desperately thought. At present his hand was just kind of resting there. Was he supposed to… use it? Had she just wanted to set it in motion, and he was now supposed to… to what? _Grope her?_

Janey was always challenging him, and Sam kind of liked that, but once more he felt completely out of his depth. Every big step they took in their physical relationship (which Janey almost always initiated), caught him off guard, and always internally freaked him out.

This was no different.

Sam closed his eyes again, worried that Janey would catch on that he'd opened them and either stop to demand what he was doing or just think he was being really weird. Neither of which he wanted. He also, having realised he'd tensed up, tried to re-lose himself in the kiss. It was always so much easier just to let his senses guide him. But no matter how much he tried, his mind kept wandering to where his hand was still just kind of lying inanimately on the side of Janey's chest.

 _This wasn't working_ , Sam thought desperately. He didn't know what Janey was expecting, or what she wanted, but it was too much for Sam in that moment. He wasn't sure, even if it was an invitation to _progress_ , that he was capable of doing so, and he was downright terrified of what would happen if he made some kind of move that Janey _hadn't_ been expecting, and then suffered her shock, and possibly her wrath as a consequence.

Nor did Sam really just want to leave his hand there, in case that was even weirder.

So he did something which in hindsight was probably _way_ riskier, and flipped Janey onto her back—one quick, spontaneous movement.

Janey opened her eyes in surprise, startled to find herself staring up at Sam, now flat on her back. Her lips were parted in a sort of thrilled delight, breathless, but in a good way, pleasantly surprised by Sam's forwardness.

Sam himself allowed only a brief moment of coy eye contact and a shared smile before lowering his mouth back onto Janey's. She met him with hungry desire, un-swayed by the new position, returning immediately to gripping at his shirt again as she lost herself in the kiss.

Sam, despite his trepidation about being alone with Janey in his bedroom (and now in such a compromising position on his bed), had to admit that he was enjoying this sense of control he seemed to be exerting. Looming over Janey's petite body, he felt a surge of power—like electricity. He'd been dating Janey for a month now, snogging her for about two, and yet every day provided some kind of new excitement. They had been wrapped up in armchairs, huddled together in cupboards, pressed up against walls, but this—his body hovering above hers, so much more dominant and sensual—he liked a lot.

Despite the empowered sense of confidence Sam suddenly felt, he was still hesitant, still partially subdued. He had not lowered his body onto Janey's but rather had his torso hoisted up by balancing on his elbows, touching her only with his mouth. Even with Janey pulling him closer, it took every ounce of Sam's strength to keep himself slightly elevated, inches of air keeping them from being sandwiched together. Sam was deeply reluctant to lower his entire bodyweight onto Janey's delicate frame, for several reasons.

Firstly, he did not want to hurt her. He felt so much larger than her, especially in that position, with almost a whole foot of height between them and likely a lot more muscle. Janey was strong—probably more so than Sam gave her credit for—but still, he did not want to smother her.

Secondly, he was once again afraid. Afraid of the intimacy, afraid of the implications it would suggest. His and Janey's bodies had been pressed up against each other before, sure—that had happened a lot in the broom cupboards for one, and there was the armchair to consider too—but in _this_ position, considering where they were and what they were doing (and with his mother's mortifying suspicions still at the forefront of his mind), Sam was fearful of things progressing too far too soon.

Where Janey stood on it all, Sam couldn't be sure—though he suspected her to be far more nonchalant about it than he certainly was—but he knew he was not ready. He wanted to explore things with Janey, of course he did, and Merlin knows he'd explored _way_ more in that month with Janey than he ever had in his entire relationship with Isabella, but maybe they needed to slow things down for a bit. Why rush?

Sam wanted to know more about Janey. He wanted to know about her family, her childhood and upbringing, her hopes, and fears, and dreams. And _that_ area of their relationship didn't seem to be progressing at all. He could not pretend he was not still completely overwhelmed (and almost a little offended) by the startling revelation that Janey was a millionaire. Or at least, as she had spitefully pointed out, that her father was.

The more serious they became physically, the only more aware Sam became that, emotionally, they knew so little. And if he was really doing this with Janey—a proper relationship and all that encompassed—he wanted to do it properly, and fully.

And yet, the more Janey gripped at his shirt, the more hungrily his mouth worked against hers, the more aware he felt of the sweat pooling beneath his collar, recapturing that euphoric bliss and new surge of power, the less Sam found he cared about propriety. All of a sudden he did not care that his family was just downstairs, or that he was engaged in an act not all that far from his mother's wandering mind. He just cared about Janey and losing himself to her in every way that he could.

He wanted nothing more than to feel her body pressed against his, to run his hand along her exposed leg, to even pursue that near-attempt at second base again, properly this time. To do anything and everything he could to connect, physically and mentally, with the girl he was falling deeper for with every passing day.

And he could tell—could sense it in the way she responded to him, as frantically and excitedly as he was—that she wanted it too.

It was probably just as well then, like when Professor Roberts had interrupted them in the corridor that one time, that there was a subdued knock on Sam's bedroom door, seemingly for no other reason than to stop Sam getting what he'd just decided he wanted.

"What?" he yelled out angrily, barely breaking away from his continued snog with Janey. She was still all hands and mouth, which didn't help, either not having heard or just not caring about the visitor.

"Sam?" his mother's tentative voice called out from behind the door, much to Sam's aggravation.

"What?" he growled again, still focusing all his energy and attention into kissing Janey. She'd moved her hands from his chest to his hair now, gripping, clawing, like an animal. Sam gently groaned, not even caring that his mother could probably hear.

"Sam," Mrs Tyler pleaded, this time actually rattling the door handle as though she was trying to gain entry. Impossible, of course, as Sam had locked it with magic.

"WHAT?" Sam roared for the third time, this time so angry that he fully broke away from Janey, turning to glare in hatred at his bedroom door, still propped up on his elbows. Janey just lay beneath him, dazed and breathless, gently panting as she tuned back into reality.

"You need to come downstairs," Mrs Tyler answered in a timid, apologetic voice.

"Why?"

"Because Elliot's here."

Sam sighed in frustration. So what if his stepbrother was here? It seemed only a cruel ploy to interrupt his fun. Though perhaps that had been Mrs Tyler's intention.

"Fine," Sam gulped, still with an edge of hostility to his voice. "We'll be down in a second."

"Okay," his mum replied, still sounding timid and concerned. There was no denying the fact that she loitered for several seconds before retreating back to the kitchen, probably on the listen for incriminating proof that her innocent son was up to un-innocent shenanigans.

Sam turned his head back to Janey, disgruntled and kind of saddened that their brief flurry of passion was over. Janey was looking at him tenderly, chest rising and falling, blonde hair comically ruffled. Sam knew it was over.

He gulped before rolling to his side and collapsing onto the mattress beside Janey, also trying to regain his steady breathing. For a while they just lay side by side, both of them lightly panting, both of them a little dazed.

"Your mum must think I'm a real whore," Janey said after a while.

Sam reached for her hand. They left them clasped atop the pillow.

"I'm sure my mum will blame me for all this," Sam responded. "And besides, she couldn't love you more. She thinks the sun shines out of your arse."

Janey snorted. "She doesn't even know me."

"She knows you enough to know that she loves you. Trust me—I can see it."

"What if she thinks I'm corrupting her little boy? Won't she think I'm not good enough for her son? Not worthy enough?" Janey teased, though Sam could sense there was underlying truth in her worries.

He gave her hand a gentle squeeze. "If you're good enough for me then you're good enough for her," he said firmly. "If you make me happy then she's happy too."

Janey considered it for a while. "And do I?" she asked in a shy voice.

"I'm _very_ happy," Sam clarified. "I am _buzzing_ with happiness right now."

"I don't think that's happiness," Janey murmured in a teasing voice, rolling onto her side to look at him.

Once more Sam found himself staring into those pools of blue, the colour of the sky, framed by impossibly long lashes. "I am happy," he murmured in a soft, assured voice, all teasing aside. "I'm so happy with you, Janey."

The blonde girl beamed, eyes filled with awe.

Sam wanted to kiss her again, just gently, but he feared one thing would lead to another and he'd quickly lose himself again. So instead he forced himself to duck out from under the bunk bed, gently pulling Janey along with him. Once they were in the centre of the room, still stealing tender smiles, Sam took hold of her other hand.

"Thank you," he said sincerely, "for coming today. It really means a lot to me."

"Sorry for threatening to break up with you," Janey said sheepishly.

Sam just laughed, a reminiscent chuckle. "Well, no harm done," he said kindly. "And I meant what I said—about James asking you out on my behalf being the best thing that ever happened to me. I, ah, I don't think I would have had the courage to ask you myself," he admitted.

Janey wondered whether she should confess to Sam that she had, at that very moment, been coming down the stairs to ask him out herself. But she decided to keep it to herself. He needn't know.

"I'm really glad he did too," she said with a smile.

"And, you know, thanks for actually saying yes."

"It was my pleasure," Janey snorted.

Sam grinned. "Well," he said, "I do my best."

Janey just smiled.

"I guess we should go back," Sam said, looking, if Janey wasn't mistaken, a little reserved. Not that she'd admit it to him, but their brief little snogfest had been particularly thrilling for her. She had been deeply impressed by Sam's sudden and unexpected dominance. It had been him who'd suggested they lie down, it had been him who'd flipped her onto her back, and him who'd showed no signs of stopping even amidst his mother's interruptions. It was a new side to Sam—confident, authoritative, _sexy._ Janey had liked it a lot.

"You can't go downstairs looking like that," Janey snorted, dropping his hands and reaching for his intensely-ruffled hair. "Let me fix it for you," she offered kindly, running her fingers through it to try and flatten it a bit.

Sam just continued to grin at her whilst she worked away. "You're the one who messed it up," he teased.

"You're the one who seduced me," she murmured.

Sam nearly choked. He couldn't tell whether Janey was joking or not, but even the thought of himself being seductive was overwhelming. She was joking, he decided, examining her face as she continued to run her fingers through his hair. He hadn't seduced her—it was a joke. And yet, she wasn't smirking or anything.

Janey lowered her hands, looking satisfied with her work. "There," she declared, "and now you're back to looking like the innocent, homely boy your mother believes you to be."

"I _am_ the innocent, homely boy my mother believes me to be."

"Keep telling yourself that," Janey said with a wink.

"I am!"

"Mhmm," Janey agreed, "sneaking girls up to your room and into your bed."

"I—I didn't," Sam spluttered, laughing. Well, he considered, Janey wasn't exactly wrong in her accusation but… it wasn't anything like she was implying. He took hold of her hands again and leant down to kiss her before she could say anything else, all the while using all his strength to stop himself from getting lost in it again and keeping it relevantly clean. Thankfully, Janey didn't complicate this, smiling back as she let him kiss her.

Again, she liked that he was taking control, and setting his own terms.

"For the record," she murmured, "if a girl puts your hand on her chest, that's permission to actually do something with it."

"Alright, okay, we're going downstairs," Sam furiously declared, breaking the kiss, dropping Janey's hands and marching over to the door without a look back, mortified by her comment and trying to pretend it hadn't happened.

Janey was laughing at him, he could tell, which only increased when he rattled the door handle, desperately trying to escape, and finding it still locked. When he turned back with a guilty, flustered, and somewhat frustrated look, Janey was holding his wand between her slender fingers and raising her eyebrows.

He gave a meek smile. Janey smirked and tossed his wand to him without a single word.

Once more Sam felt embarrassed as he and Janey entered the kitchen, mortified by his mother's ridiculous assumptions, but also knowing that, given the way he'd reacted just then, they were seeming more and more feasible. He had only locked the door so forcefully because he wanted people to know he wasn't intimidated by their outrageous speculations; he had not actually meant for anything to happen that might actually add to it.

But still, he assured himself, nothing _had_ actually happened. All he and Janey had done was kiss. And, as Janey had so humiliatingly pointed out, they hadn't even gone to second base. _But now at least he knew that it wasn't out of the question._

Janey was surprised by Elliot Tyler. She had subconsciously been expecting a male alternative of Kayleigh, and yet the two looked nothing alike. The younger twins, Kayleigh, and Mrs Tyler all had dark, rich hair, Sam's was brunette but much softer, Mr Tyler's was grey, but Elliot was the only blonde one—a beautiful golden blonde, not unlike Janey's own. She wondered whether he looked like his mother.

Which only led Janey to wonder what had happened to Kayleigh and Elliot's mother (assuming they had the same one). Had she merely separated from Sam's stepfather, much like Janey's own mother, or had she passed too, like Sam's dad? Janey also realised she didn't really know the circumstances of Sam's father's death. But she knew she'd never dare to ask.

Unlike his sarcastic and cynical sister (not that Janey had at all minded), Elliot was overwhelmingly polite to Janey. Like Mrs Tyler, he greeted her as one of his own family members, putting Janey further at ease. He was everything Sam had assured Janey he would be—friendly, polite, well-mannered, and perfectly charming. Janey had never realised real people were actually this nice.

"Little Janey," he said fondly, like he was greeting an old friend. "At long last."

Janey looked to Sam with a quizzical expression. He looked sheepish.

"I shared a room with Sam for the first five years of him being at Hogwarts," Elliot explained. "Every time he came home, every single holiday, all I would hear about was you."

Janey blushed, knowing it wouldn't have been too favourable. But still, she felt flattered. Had she really had such an impact on Sam's life? Even a bad one?

"Look, I think everybody's exaggerating here," Sam said, clearing his throat.

"We're not," Kayleigh muttered under her breath.

Sam looked guiltily and apologetically at his girlfriend. "You just… used to push my buttons," he defended. "You know?"

"Sam talking about you is the reason we learnt so many swear words," Zoe innocently piped up.

"Okay, that is _not_ true—"

"I'm very flattered," Janey interrupted, sweetly fluttering her eyelashes. "You're a real sweetheart, Sam."

"Look," he protested, "if I'd ever thought there would be anything between us… I just, I never even _dreamed_ you'd be my girlfriend one day."

"That's not strictly true," Elliot interrupted, beaming from ear to ear.

Sam looked at him warily.

"I shared a room with you, Sam," his stepbrother reminded him. "You used to talk in your sleep. A _lot._ "

"I didn't," Sam gulped, though he looked uncertain. "I… what?"

"Janey's name came up a lot."

"You're making this up," Sam said furiously.

Everybody was smirking and Janey couldn't help but join in. She did feel somewhat bad for her poor boyfriend. He'd been getting a lot of slack that day, everybody laughing at his expense. Which, even though it made her feel at ease, probably wasn't as uplifting for him. It was probably hard for him too, she considered, being the only one who wasn't a Tyler by blood. They all at least shared the same father.

"So what?" Janey dismissed, slipping her hands through his arm and leaning into him. "I think it's sweet."

Sam looked suspicious but pleasantly surprised.

"Nah," Elliot grinned, "he's a sweetheart really." And he was being sincere, Janey thought, not sarcastic like Kayleigh.

Janey did her best to support Sam for the rest of the day—a concept she found amusing considering _she_ was the outsider in that household. She found it weird too, to be so open in her affection towards him. For years she had done all she could to fight it, to convince herself that it didn't exist. And even though she was now comfortable in her own self that yes, she cared for Sam, it was still embarrassing to be so liberal about it around their friends. They were all so deeply fascinated, like observing animals in a zoo, and so knowing and teasing about Sam and Janey's newfound romance. It unsettled the girl.

But in Sam's house, in the Tylers' company, being affectionate with Sam—being kind and romantic with him—was not only normal but encouraged. And Janey liked it a lot.

It had been a fun day, not at all as terrifying and intimidating as Janey had feared, full of laughter, banterous back-and-forth, and a very general feeling of being welcomed, of being accepted. By the time it was starting to get dark, and Janey knew she'd have to return to her own house (she hadn't told her dad where she was going that day and wanted to be home before him), she was almost sad at the thought of leaving it all behind.

The entire family saw her to the door, dog included, saddened that she was leaving and urgently encouraging her to return whenever she wanted. Mrs Tyler hugged her, as did Zoe, flinging her arms around the startled girl's waist. Mr Tyler shook Janey's hand again, just as he had when he'd first been introduced, and so did Elliot, even though Janey had known him for a much shorter length of time. Morgan gave her a high five, Kayleigh an approving nod of her head, and Rusty a sharp but excited bark.

By the time Janey was finally bustled out of the house she felt dazed, and oddly hollow. It was hard to believe she hadn't even known them for a full day. Sam closed the door behind them, joining her on his doorstep and coming to stand behind Janey, who was peering up at the sky with a sad, ominous look on her face. It looked like it was about to rain.

She hugged her arms around herself, though only briefly, as Sam's arms found their way there instead. He kissed the top of her head from behind. "So when do I get to meet your family?"

Janey turned around in his arms and glared at him. Luckily, he was smiling and hadn't been being serious. "I _am_ kidding," he clarified. "Meeting a girlfriend's parents has never been high up on my bucket list, and certainly not a millionaire father who could probably have me assassinated without any traces."

Janey rolled her eyes. "So you're okay with the whole 'millionaire' thing?" she asked nervously.

Sam looked guilty. "I have nothing against it," he assured her. "I was just… shocked," he said. "Overwhelmed. But, ah, you were right. It doesn't change anything. It doesn't change _us._ "

"That's fair enough," Janey mused. "Maybe I _should_ have told you, though."

"Look, it doesn't matter," Sam said firmly, still holding her. "Unless your dad really is going to try and have me assassinated then it's really not a big deal."

"He won't," Janey smiled. "He doesn't even know you exist."

"I'd be offended, but I think that's probably a good thing."

"Yeah," Janey agreed. "I'd like to tackle the whole 'secret half-sister' thing before I tackle the 'first serious boyfriend' thing."

Sam couldn't help but smile. "Is that what I am?" he asked gently, struggling to hide his clear elation at the title.

"I've never met a boyfriend's parents before," was all Janey said, as though that answered the question. It was good enough for Sam.

"So when can I see you again?" Sam asked, lowering his voice. They were both well aware that Sam's entire family was watching them through the window, unsubtly hiding behind the curtains.

"Aren't we all going to the beach on Saturday?"

"Let me rephrase it," Sam backtracked. "When can I see _you_ again? Alone," he clarified.

Janey's stomach felt light. "I'll text you," she replied, she too lowering her voice, like it was somehow a shared secret.

Sam did not care that his mother, stepfather, all four of his siblings, and half the neighbourhood had a front-row seat, as he took Janey further into his arms and kissed her firmly on the mouth. Melting into the kiss with no reluctance, Janey did not think she had ever been happier.

The first few raindrops fell from the heavens, bursting on the couple's skin. It did not matter. That kiss persisted.

And so would that relationship, Janey vowed to herself.

* * *

 _ **Author's Note:** Italicised lyrics and title inspiration from Scouting For Girls' 'Heartbeat'_


	12. Almost Is Never Enough

**_Author's Note:_** _I'm away this weekend, so new chapter is up a day early :)_

* * *

 **Chapter 12 – Almost Is Never Enough**

* * *

 _I'd like to say we gave it a try  
_ _I'd like to blame it all on life  
_ _Maybe we just weren't right  
_ _But that's a lie_

 _And we can deny it as much as we want  
_ _But in time our feelings will show  
_

' _Cause sooner or later  
_ _We'll wonder why we gave up  
_ _The truth is everyone knows_

 _And we almost knew what love was  
_ _But almost is never enough_

* * *

"Tell me, in your own words, what happened between Samuel Tyler and yourself."

"Nothing… _happened_ ," Janey gulped, feeling jittery under such hard scrutiny, partially wishing he was there by her side. But he couldn't be, she knew. And she'd have to quickly get used to that. "We just want to be divorced. No particular reason," she finished quietly.

Her lawyer, a middle-aged but greying woman with a pointed chin and a permanent tight-set frown, surveyed her with a penetrative stare. Janey had never felt more uneasy. Wasn't this woman supposed to be on her side? "So there wasn't another woman?"

"What?"

"Mr Tyler wasn't unfaithful?"

"God, no!" Janey said in alarm, unsure whether to laugh or not. "No, _no_ , of course not. Sam wouldn't _ever_ be unfaithful to me!"

The lawyer nodded, still frowning. "And yourself…?"

"What?" Janey asked suspiciously. "Have _I_ been unfaithful?"

The lawyer merely nodded again.

"Absolutely not!" Janey exclaimed, offended by the notion. She checked herself, feeling embarrassed and undermined by this woman. Janey's mind drifted to thoughts of her co-star. "No," she said quietly. "I've never been unfaithful to him."

"Was he violent?"

"Who?" Janey asked, bringing herself back into the room.

The lawyer rolled her eyes, looking like her patience was wearing thin. Janey did not appreciate this woman's attitude and was struggling to understand why her father had hired her on her behalf. "Your husband—Mr Tyler."

Again, Janey couldn't help but scoff. "Sam? _Violent?_ " The very notion! Sam was the sweetest, most caring man Janey had ever known. He would have taken his own life in preference to laying a finger on Janey. And besides, if Sam had ever, for whatever reason, tried to harm her, Janey would have put him in the ground before he had the chance. She wouldn't have stood for that.

"Domestic abuse is one of the highest factors for divorce," the lawyer recited disapprovingly.

Janey felt self-conscious. Neither she nor Sam were violent people—what did this woman expect?

Janey's mind wandered to that one night a couple of weeks ago when Sam had unexpectedly turned up to collect more of his stuff and things had quickly spiralled. He had been rough, sure—he'd had no qualms about slamming her into the wall. Her shoulder still throbbed from the impact, and her head still had a slight lump from being slammed against the headboard moments later, but she was hardly going to share that with her lawyer. And besides, Janey wasn't sure _that_ was the kind of violence she was referring to.

Janey would rather die than admit she'd thoroughly enjoyed that night, even amongst all the divorce proceedings. And anyway, to try and spitefully make any claims against Sam she'd have to admit that she had been far more violent with him. She had struck him so hard across the face that his cheek had still been red even when it was all over and she'd forced him out, having collected nothing new and now several items of clothing less.

That had been the most thrilling night of their lives together. And they technically hadn't even _been_ together.

Janey's face was now suitably red, despite the fact that her lawyer couldn't possibly detect what wild and kinky reimaginings were going on in her mind. "No, Sam wasn't violent," she said quietly. "And nor was I," she added before her lawyer could ask. "I told you, it wasn't that anything _happened_ , it's just that…"

But Janey didn't really know how to finish that sentence. _That we don't want to be together anymore?_ Because they both knew that wasn't true.

"It's complicated," she muttered, more to herself than her lawyer.

"Circumstance," the lawyer noted, nodding to herself. "Irreconcilable differences?"

"I don't know what that means," Janey said bitterly.

"You and Mr Tyler were incompatible. You had opposing viewpoints or personalities, perhaps."

"Oh," Janey gulped. "Yeah, I guess so."

"Was he satisfying you sexually?"

If Janey had been drinking something she would have spat it out. "Sam and I were _very_ happy sexually," she clarified, absolutely mortified. In fact, that had probably been the happiest aspect of their marriage.

The lawyer did not look apologetic. "Some couples drift apart preceding a divorce," she explained. "Often there are months of sexual inactivity—"

"No," Janey interrupted with gritted teeth. "We were never"—she looked away, embarrassed—"inactive." Not even after they'd separated either, it would seem…

"He wasn't satisfying you in other ways?" the lawyer suggested. "He was, perhaps, not fulfilling your expectations as a husband?"

"No," Janey dismissed, dazed. "No, Sam was perfect," she insisted. "He was a wonderful husband…"

Again, the lawyer looked impatient. She raised her eyebrows whilst Janey blushed. "So," she said, clearing her throat. "Mr Tyler, according to you, was not unfaithful, he was not violent or abusive, he was satisfying you sexually, and fulfilling your needs as a husband."

"Yes," Janey agreed.

"Are you still in love with him?"

Janey was startled by this question most of all—the bluntness with which it had been asked and the lack of emotion that accompanied such a prying question. "I…" she trailed off, dazed, not really sure how to answer.

"Isn't that a little personal?" she asked eventually, laughing uneasily. The lawyer did not join in, and Janey gulped.

She knew the answer, short, clear, and uncomplicated. What would be the point in lying to her lawyer?

"Yes," she said with a hoarse throat.

"Mrs Tyler," the lawyer sighed.

"Miss Davington," Janey corrected quietly.

"Miss Davington, I am struggling to understand why you're seeking divorce from your husband with no conceivable reasons to even _want_ to."

"I _don't_ want to!" Janey yelled, _her_ patience now coming to an end. "My husband wants a divorce so guess what? _We're getting divorced,"_ she practically screamed at the unsuspecting woman. "Isn't that how this works?" she growled. "One half of a couple wants a divorce? You _get_ divorced."

The other woman was not fazed. She continued to survey Janey with those cold, uncaring eyes. "I see," she said.

"I have nothing against Sam," Janey said in a much calmer voice. "Okay? I don't want to… to make any claims against him or anything. I just want a nice, clean divorce, as quick as possible. My Daddy hired you," Janey explained.

"Indeed," the lawyer responded. "I've assisted Mr Davington in both of his divorces."

Janey rolled her eyes. _Of course she had._ Of all the amenities Janey shared with and borrowed from her father, she had never thought one of them would be his divorce lawyer. "Just do whatever legal stuff it is you need to do to get me through this," Janey sighed.

"Mrs Tyler, might I make a suggestion?"

"It's Miss Davington," Janey said irritably, "and sure. Go ahead."

"You and Mr Tyler have been married an incredibly short time. Just six months if I'm correct?"

Janey nodded stiffly.

"Is there no chance of saving your marriage? Working on it, perhaps through marriage counselling?"

"No," Janey answered immediately, knowing Sam would never go for it.

"You're still in love with him," the lawyer said slowly.

Janey flinched.

"You show no signs of actually _wanting_ to be divorced. Have you made this clear to your husband?"

 _No_ , was the short answer. It had all been Sam's decision—as hasty a decision to get divorced as it was to even propose to her in the first place. Janey was not going to fight him on it. How could she? It would be embarrassing, degrading. She would not plead, she would not beg. He had made up his mind—the sooner they got through it, the better. Janey just wanted to leave this all behind. She needed time for her heart to heal. Why drag it out?

"Is he aware of your standing?" the lawyer prompted.

"My standing is irrelevant," Janey dismissed. "My husband wants to get divorced and therefore so do I. Now please, just do your job. I'll pay anything—whatever it takes—to get this over as quickly as possible."

"I'm afraid it's not that easy," the lawyer apologised. "These things take time. It could be, and likely will be, several months before your divorce goes through—at best."

Janey already knew so much. She and Sam, like with their marriage, had gone through the Muggle route of getting divorced. It was logical, obviously. But Muggles were slow, and they themselves had already discussed the possibility of using magic to speed the process up. A Confundus Charm was all it would require, quick and simple, and they could even get the divorce finalised within a month if they were lucky. Sam could perform them well, Janey thought bitterly.

"Your divorce should be incredibly straightforward," the lawyer went on to explain. "Both of you are willing and there are no foreseeable complications."

"Like what?" Janey asked curiously.

"Mr Tyler signed a prenup?"

"Yeah," Janey said with a nod—one of the only things her father had been insistent on when it came to the wedding. He had no problems with Sam marrying his daughter. In fact, he said he'd pay for the whole thing. Under one condition: Sam agreed to sign a prenup.

He had done so without a single bit of hesitation. He was a simple man with honest intentions. All he'd honestly wanted was to marry Janey; he hadn't cared for her money or her possessions, or anything of the sort.

The prenup might be important to her father, but it wasn't to Janey. As far as she was concerned, Sam could have whatever he wanted. She'd happily give him any sum of money, whether he was entitled to it or not. He could have any share of her possessions he so desired. Materialistic she may be, but Janey honestly didn't care. Anything Sam wanted, he could have.

It was just a shame, Janey thought sadly, that the thing he wanted wasn't her _._

"And you have no children, I assume?"

Janey's heart fluttered in her chest so much that she thought it might stop. Her throat immediately went dry, her blood cold. "N—no," she managed to say, lip trembling, her whole body feeling numb. "No children," she gulped.

The lawyer looked at her inquisitively but did not pursue it, much to Janey's great relief. It was, after all, an incredibly sensitive subject—a huge, contributing part of her and Sam's divorce.

"And no pets?"

"No," Janey laughed. "I killed our goldfish. Accidentally," she clarified, worried that her lawyer would think her some kind of sadist. "But Sam never really forgave me…"

"Did that contribute to your divorce?" the lawyer inquired, perfectly serious.

"No," Janey snorted. Honestly, what did this woman think of her? That her and Sam's marriage was so fragile and unserious that a dead goldfish could bring it crumbling down?

"Well, that will certainly make things easier."

"The lack of fish?" Janey asked stupidly.

"The lack of children," the lawyer corrected. "I assumed so much, given your age, but you never know."

"Twenty-two," Janey mused sadly, embarrassed once more by such a huge failing at such a young age.

"Did _that_ contribute to your decision to get divorced?"

Janey would have liked to have said yes, but how could she? All Janey had to do was take a look at her friends. James and Ebony had been married at just eighteen and seventeen years of age and look at them: stronger than ever. Rose and Scorpius, married at twenty, happier than ever and expecting a child. Janey thought of Sam and herself. The problem had not been their age, it had been _them._

"Possibly," Janey considered. "We were young, that's true. We _are_ young," she said in alarm.

"And there's no chance of saving your marriage? Or working on it together?"

"No," Janey said, sadly shaking her head. "This is what's best in the long run. This is what we both want."

It was not a complete lie. The truth was that neither Sam nor Janey wanted a divorce. What both of them wanted was to remain with the one they loved, happily married for the rest of their lives. The problem was that neither Sam nor Janey was that other person. They were not compatible. They never had been. Janey was not the Janey she knew Sam wanted her to be, and Sam was not the Sam Janey wanted either. They had tried, in vain, to make their marriage work for six months, and to no avail. Their marriage had ceased to work the moment they stepped off of that plane after their honeymoon.

There was no point in dragging it out. The sooner this was all over, the better. Though it had been at Sam's request that the couple file for divorce, they couldn't point the finger of blame at either one of them. Janey knew she could not forgive Sam for what he'd done, but she also knew he could not forgive her for the things she wouldn't do.

They had both said things and done things they were ashamed of.

"It's complicated," Janey accidentally said out loud again. "We… we just want different things."

The lawyer said nothing for a while, before clearing her throat.

"Mrs Tyler—"

"Miss Davington."

"—is there nothing I can say to convince you otherwise? Are you one hundred percent sure this is what you want? There are things we can do—ways to work around this. And given your financial situation, and your, well, your _success—_ "

"Please," Janey whispered, forcing her eyes shut. She would not cry in front of this woman. She reopened them and looked up at her lawyer with wide, shining eyes, her voice a shaky, desperate plea. "I just don't want to be married anymore. I just want this all to be over."

"I understand," the lawyer said, looking, for the first time during that whole meeting, actually sympathetic to Janey. "I'll see what I can do."

* * *

Even Mr Davington, as unobservant and uninvolved in his daughter's life as he was, could not deny the change in Janey during the summer following her sixth year at the magical boarding school. She seemed happier than she'd ever been, and this intrigued him greatly.

"You seem happy," he teased one evening at dinner. He and his daughter were seated at either end of the elongated, glass table, oddly formal. They'd barely spoken to each other as they both absentmindedly twizzled spaghetti around their forks. Janey was unsubtly texting under the table.

"So?" she demanded, avoiding looking him in the eye. "Is there a reason I shouldn't be?"

"No," Mr Davington said, "it's just… you seem happier than normal."

"How observant of you. You've actually decided to invest your attention in me for a change, have you?"

"Janey, please," he said with a disapproving frown. "You know how busy I've been."

Janey rolled her eyes, putting the phone onto her lap and looking her father in the eye. "Which excuse is it this time?" she asked sarcastically. "Work or women?"

"One word of advice," was all Mr Davington said, pushing the spaghetti around his plate, "don't ever get divorced, Janey."

"No fear of that," she murmured.

"I'm serious. It's messy, it's complicated—it's just not worth it."

"Maybe you shouldn't marry gold-diggers then. Or get married at all," Janey advised scornfully. "Or, you know, you could be faithful to the women you _do_ marry."

"I thought you hated Sadie," Mr Davington said suspiciously.

"Oh, you noticed, did you?"

"Janey—"

"Yes, I hated her. You know I did. But that didn't matter to you, did it? As long as you got what you wanted."

"You're too young to understand," Mr Davington dismissed, shaking his head and looking disgruntled.

"No, I understand perfectly," Janey snapped. "Believe me, I see the appeal in a woman like Sadie. A couple of things spring to mind actually."

"You're not so different to me from what I hear," Mr Davington chastised with a knowing smile. "You've got a reputation, Janey, even _I_ know that. Your commitment issues are even worse than mine are, and—"

"I don't have _commitment_ issues!" Janey protested.

"Have you ever had a serious boyfriend?" he asked bluntly.

Janey's gaze dropped to stare at her spaghetti. She was quickly losing her appetite. Her phone buzzed in her lap, letting her know a new message from Sam had come in. She ignored it. "I'm sixteen," she said, avoiding the question. "I don't _need_ a serious boyfriend. I'm young, I'm having fun—it's not 'commitment issues.'"

"Look, I know mine and your mother's divorce was difficult for you, but—"

"Daddy, it was nine years ago, I'm over it," Janey lied.

"—but these things happen," he went on anyway. "Your mother and I, we just weren't—"

"Did you love her?" Janey interrupted.

Mr Davington paused. "Love is a… complicated thing," he said awkwardly.

"Did you love Sadie?"

"Janey—"

"Did you love _anybody?_ " Janey almost yelled, losing her patience and growing ever more aggravated at her father.

Mr Davington paused for consideration. "I love _you_ ," he said, proud and paternal.

Janey bit her lip, lost in thought. "Did you love Ariella Capella?"

Mr Davington frowned, confused, but also curious. "Who?"

"She's a Metamorphmagus."

"A what?"

"She's Juliette Capella's mother, though she goes by 'Jinx' nowadays."

"Janey, I don't know who these people are."

"Well," Janey said spitefully, "Jinx is your daughter, and given what she's found out from her mother, Ariella is one of the many women you've taken on your yacht. You promised to help her financially. You never did."

Mr Davington let out an exasperated sigh. "Really, Janine? This again?"

"Don't call me Janine," Janey said disapprovingly.

"Janey, whoever this woman is, and what she's claiming, I do _not_ have another daughter. Can't you see that these people have done their research? That they're just going to scam us for money?"

"I believe them," Janey said fiercely. "I've been getting to know Jinx and I just _know_ , in my heart, that she's my sister. We're so alike, Daddy, it has to be true. Bobbin is _convinced._ Jinx has been telling me stuff that her mum's told her about you—stuff they couldn't possibly know unless she really knew who you were."

"Like what?" Mr Davington asked suspiciously.

Janey ignored him. "If you'd just _meet_ with her," she pleaded.

"Who? The mother or the daughter?"

"Both," Janey said. "Either one. I don't _care_."

"Yeah?" he asked. "Well, neither do I. Honestly, Janey, you have to keep your wits about you. I'd remember a woman named 'Ariella.' And why, if she was bearing my child, wouldn't she reach out to me?"

"Would _you_ want to reach out to a man like you, knowing you'd get nothing in return? You'd already backtracked on so many promises to her—by this point, she didn't want anything to do with you. Jinx has told me everything she knows from what her mother's said to her. You'd already been so unreliable. She knew you were cheating on your wife. My mum," Janey added for clarification, a bitter edge of hostility.

"You're making out like I knew this woman on a much more personal level," Mr Davington said in disbelief. "First, you're claiming she's just some fling I took on the yacht, and now she's someone I've broken countless promises to and impregnated?"

Janey was frustrated. She knew only what she'd heard from Jinx—not the whole story. And even then, Jinx had heard only what her mum had confessed. "I don't know, okay? You met in the Bahamas or something. She was there on holiday, you were there on 'business.' It was a two-week thing—you were sleeping around, but _she_ was special."

Mr Davington looked less than convinced. Was his memory really so bad, Janey thought desperately. Was he just lying? Had Jinx's mum maybe even done something to him? A charm or a Forgetfulness Potion or something?

"She might have been using a different name," Janey said impatiently, "I don't know. You favoured her because she had green hair, but she never told you she was a witch."

Something like recognition flickered into Mr Davington's eyes. He swallowed a lump in his throat and looked away hastily. "A well thought-out story," he said uneasily.

"And suppose it's true," Janey urged. "If you _do_ have another daughter, don't you want to meet her?"

Mr Davington smiled at Janey. "I already have a perfectly good daughter. What do I need another one for?"

Janey sighed, flattered but irritated. It was clear she wasn't going to get anything more from her father, but she wasn't giving up. Janey had known, the instant Bobbin had revealed it, and even subconsciously before that to some degree, that Jinx was her sister. There was something strong between them, thicker than blood—a connection, of sorts. It just had to be true.

The two of them had been slowly gaining confidence with each other over the month or so during that summer so far, trying to piece together the pieces of their parents' sordid love affair. Sisterhood was treating them well, but they both wanted more. They needed answers, and Janey was going to do all she could to get them from her father.

"If you met her," Janey went on, ignoring his attempt to flatter her, "you'd know in an instant whether you knew her or notJinx's mum, that is. You could even do a paternity test. It would be so easy."

"Janey, I don't want to talk about this anymore," Mr Davington dismissed, taking a sip from his glass. "I have too much going on at the moment—I don't need this too."

Janey pursed her lips, sulking.

"You could always tell me who you've been texting so much," he prompted, a sly, teasing smile on his face.

Janey did her best not to look guilty. "Jinx," she said impulsively.

"Oh, really?"

"Why does it matter?"

"You have that look about you," Mr Davington said knowingly.

"What look?" Janey demanded.

He took another sip of his drink. "The look of love."

Janey rose from the table, pushing her plate away and rolling her eyes. "I'm not in _love_ ," she scoffed. "And don't you _dare_ even try and talk to me about love!"

"Janey, love, I was just kidding."

"I'm going to bed."

"Janey—"

" _I'm going to bed._ "

* * *

Janey was desperate to see Sam again. She'd never craved a specific human being's company as much as she did in that moment. God, it was frustrating. When had this become her? When had she become so dependent, so _desperate_?

It scared her, but not as much as the thought of not having Sam in her life scared her.

She was so done with playing games. She just wanted to be with him, well and truly.

It had only been a day since she'd gone round his house and met his family, and they'd be seeing each other that weekend at the beach with the others, but that wasn't enough for her. It was so lonely, so empty in that house of hers, with her father working every day, only returning in the evening for a hasty, stilted dinner with her. That was _not_ how Janey wanted to spend her summer. But she didn't want to come across as too needy or clingy.

 _Screw it_ , she thought, reaching for her phone. She and Sam had been making general chit-chat all day, but Janey ignored his last comment. _Are you free tomorrow? xxx—_ she texted.

Sam was a slow texter. Janey waited with patience, giving a start when her phone eventually buzzed.

 _Depends what you want xxx_

 _To see you,_ she texted back hurriedly. _You could come round my house xxx_

Was that too forward? Should Janey have suggested they meet somewhere neutral? Was she prepared for Sam to come to her house? Would _he_ be prepared?

 _My dad won't be in—_ she added, and then regretted it. She didn't want Sam to get the wrong idea about _why_ she wanted to invite him round to her house. It was no more innocent than wanting to see and spend time with him. But given what had happened at Sam's house—and that had been with his entire family in the house—would he think she was implying more?

Oh well, it was sent. The worst that would happen would be that he say no.

Fortunately, he didn't.

 _Are you sure that would be ok? xxx_

 _If it's ok with you then it's ok with me. I just really miss you. I can send you the address xxx_

A few minutes passed. Janey's heart was racing in anticipation by the time Sam's response eventually came.

 _I'd love to xxx_

Janey smiled, hugging the phone to her chest.

* * *

"Your mum wants me to have a word with you," Elliot announced, closing the door behind him as he walked into the room he and Sam used to share. "Well, I'm not supposed to tell you that. I'm supposed to act like this is completely spontaneous and that I just really want to have this conversation with you."

Sam was immediately suspicious. What could his mother possibly send Elliot to say, that she couldn't just say himself? He put his phone down on his bedside table and ducked out from where he'd been lying on the bottom bunk, texting Janey. He leant against the bedframe, arms crossed. He had a feeling he knew exactly what…

"Yeah?" he asked.

Elliot just continued to smile. "Janey's nice," he said proudly.

Sam blushed at the compliment to his girlfriend. "Yeah," he mumbled, "why wouldn't she be?"

"Well, that's not exactly the picture you used to paint of her."

"I was stupid back then," Sam dismissed. "Naïve. And hey," he accused, suddenly angry, "that really wasn't cool what you said yesterday—about saying her name in my sleep. I don't really do that, do I?"

Elliot gave him an apologetic smile. "Afraid so, Sammy."

Sam was mortified. "For how long?"

"Oh, not that long—only the last year or so that I was here. Before that, it used to be Rose's name."

Sam shifted his weight uncomfortably. "It was humiliating," he accused.

"It's endearing, Sam, and Janey really thought so."

Sam wasn't convinced.

"Just be thankful I didn't tell her during which _other_ activities you say her name…"

"Elliot!"

"I'm _kidding_ , Sam. Though that would have been hilarious."

"Look, what did you even come here to say then?" Sam gulped, desperately hoping this wasn't the conversation he thought it was.

"You're seventeen, Sam."

 _Oh God, it was._

"I'm going to stop you right there," Sam interrupted, cheeks turning red again. "Because I would rather _die_ than have this talk with you."

Elliot raised his eyebrows. "Well, you can always have it with your mum."

Sam scowled.

"Your choice."

"I don't know what my mum, or you, or anyone else thinks is going on between Janey and I, but I _really_ don't need to have this conversation, Elliot, I swear. Tell Mum whatever it was you need to tell her and let's just ignore this."

"Nice try, Sammy, but I promised your mum."

"So?"

"So I can't break a promise to Delia. I'm morally obliged."

Sam rolled his eyes. "Fine," he said through gritted teeth. He supposed it _was_ preferable to having this conversation with his mum. "Get it over with then. But know this is going to be the most uncomfortable conversation of my entire life."

"Well, I can't say it's going to be thrilling for me either," Elliot scoffed. "But listen, Sammy—"

"Stop calling me that."

"—you're seventeen. You have a serious girlfriend. I assume you're serious about her?"

Sam nodded. He hadn't really defined it with Janey, but even _she'd_ jokingly let slip that he was her 'first serious boyfriend' and that was all the confirmation Sam needed. "It's only been just over a month though," he clarified. "So it's only early days."

"Even still, you brought her home," Elliot pointed out. "She's met your family, she's seen your childhood bedroom—it's moving pretty quickly."

"Well," Sam shrugged, "I care about her."

"Exactly. And, you know, _physically—_ "

Sam winced.

"—it's going to progress pretty quickly too. I mean, I don't know _exactly_ where you and Janey are, but if after only a month you're already bringing her up to your bedroom—"

"Nothing happened!" Sam spluttered. "Yes, okay, Janey was in here with me, but we didn't—we didn't _do_ anything," he helplessly explained.

Elliot remained calm and knowing. "Well, Kayleigh said she walked in on you kissing. And we all saw you on the doorstep…"

"Okay, fine, we were kissing," Sam said, throwing his hands up in exasperation. "But that was all. I can kiss her, can't I?"

"Absolutely," Elliot agreed. "But, you know, kissing will eventually lead to—"

" _Oh my God_."

"Sam, please, I'm trying to make this as un-awkward as possible."

"It's not working!"

"Sam, you're seventeen years old, you have a serious girlfriend who you locked yourself in your bedroom with, can you blame your mother for being concerned?"

"I was showing Janey my lightsaber," Sam mumbled.

"Is that a euphemism?"

"No!"

"It's not a problem if you _are_ , you know, _that_ kind of serious with Janey—it's perfectly normal—it's just important that you go about it the right way, you know?"

Sam couldn't even look his stepbrother in the eye. _This wasn't happening_.

"But you can't pressure her."

"I haven't been!" Sam protested. If anything, it was Janey who was pressuring him! "Look, Elliot, I have no interest in… progressing my physical relationship with Janey, alright?"

Elliot looked taken aback, kind of suspicious.

"Okay, well, no, I _do_ ," Sam backtracked, blushing slightly, "but just not… for a while. We have one whole more year at Hogwarts, and I don't know if Janey and I will be able to see it all the way through, but I'm not interested in… doing anything," he gulped, "until after that, alright?"

Elliot nodded, impressed. "That's very admirable, Sam. Good for you," he praised.

"I'm not ready," Sam admitted sheepishly.

"That's fine too. All that matters is that, if it happens— _w_ _hen_ it happens—whoever it's with, that you're both in the same place. That you're both ready."

"I will," Sam vowed. Even if he was so desperately insatiable, Sam knew Janey wouldn't ever do anything she wasn't comfortable with.

"And that, you know, you're safe about it."

Sam rolled his eyes. "Please don't go into detail."

"Do they give you this kind of education at Hogwarts?" Elliot asked, genuinely curious.

"Some," Sam admitted. Though he'd learnt most of what he knew from James Potter…

"Okay, good."

"Is that it?" Sam asked hopefully.

Elliot looked thoughtful for a second. "One more thing: If you _are_ going to go the whole way, don't do it in this house."

"Are you… talking from experience?" Sam asked, alarmed.

"No," Elliot laughed. "No, but I'm just saying—this house is pretty small, and always full. Always go to her house."

"Is that what you do?" Sam asked awkwardly. He didn't greatly want to know about his stepbrother's personal life, but he _was_ twenty-six and had a long-term serious girlfriend. Sam wasn't naïve.

"Emma and I have our own place now," Elliot reminded him. "But yeah. And Kayleigh too."

"Kayleigh doesn't have a boyfriend."

"No, but that doesn't mean she doesn't… see people."

Sam didn't ask. In some ways Kayleigh reminded him alarmingly of Janey. He couldn't ever see her being seriously committed to anyone. Kayleigh, that was—he certainly hoped Janey was turning over a new leaf and wanting to commit.

"I'm going to Janey's house tomorrow," Sam remembered.

Elliot looked surprised. "You are?"

"Yeah, she just invited me."

"To do… what?" he asked slowly.

Sam shrugged. "Hang out."

"Sam, if this is some kind of secret lingo for what we literally _just_ talked about—"

It's not," Sam interrupted, horrified. "No, I'm being serious. She said she missed me," he said, feeling smug.

But Elliot only looked concerned. "And you'll be alone?"

"What do you mean?"

"Are any of your other friends going?"

"No, but we're seeing them on Saturday."

"What about her parents?"

"She only lives with her dad."

"Will he be there?"

Sam's eyes widened with sudden realisation. Janey had been keen to emphasise that her dad wouldn't be in the house. But that didn't _mean_ anything—and certainly not what Elliot was implying. "Well, _no_ ," Sam mumbled, "but—"

"Sam, are you sure Janey and you are on the same page? Because, no offence, but you're kind of clueless."

"I'm, like, ninety-seven percent that Janey and I are on the same page," Sam said nervously.

Elliot raised an eyebrow. "Only ninety-seven percent?"

"We haven't talked about this kind of thing, alright?" Sam said, feeling flustered. "We've only been together for a month. But I am… pretty sure that Janey's not expecting anything." But why had she made sure to let him know her dad wouldn't be in? And why invite her round her house rather than anywhere else?

Sam was suddenly terrified. Was Janey expecting something from him? Had he maybe unintentionally, given his forwardness under his own roof, led her to believe he was not only ready, but _wanted_ to be that serious with her so soon?

"Should I not go?" he asked his stepbrother, suddenly panicked.

"Sam, calm down, you should go," Elliot instructed. "I don't know what Janey's expecting, but _you_ don't have to do anything you don't want to."

"But I'm so weak. And she's so strong," he said worriedly.

"Oh, come on, Janey is not going to _force_ you into doing anything!" Elliot laughed. "Talk to her about it—explain where you stand—if it _does_ go anywhere you don't want it to."

"I'm not ready!"

"Sam, calm down."

"What if she's expecting it? What do I do?"

"Talk to her," Elliot said calmly.

"And what if I offend her? What if she doesn't want anything to do with me?"

"Sam, you don't even know what she wants. It's probably perfectly innocent, alright? And besides, Janey's not going to break up with you just because you won't _sleep_ with her!"

Was that true, Sam wondered. Sam had never _not_ given Janey what she wanted. He gulped. He was just paranoid. He was probably getting way over himself by even assuming that that's what Janey wanted anyway.

"Look," Elliot said with an awkward grimace, "I really don't want to know details but… exactly how serious have you been with Janey? Physically?"

Sam blushed, not wanting to share. "We kiss," he mumbled. "A lot."

"Proper kissing?"

"What does that even mean?"

"You know, tongues and stuff."

Sam didn't say anything.

"Okay, I'll take that as a yes."

"But that's it," Sam quickly assured him. "Well, we hold hands too. And… hug."

"And you've not been"—Elliot looked hugely uncomfortable, unable to look Sam in the eye—"naked with her?"

"No!" Sam yelled. "What—I mean—why would I?"

Elliot looked at him pointedly.

"I mean, like, _when?_ " Sam said furiously. "I've only ever been with her at school, or _here_. Or the beach," he added as an afterthought.

"Okay, fine, I was just asking."

"I've seen her in a bikini," he said, deep in thought, the image clearly branded into his mind. His eyes widened. "Oh my God, she's seen my nipples," he whispered in horror.

Elliot couldn't help but snort. "Wow, Sam, that's wild," he said sarcastically. "I'll definitely be reporting back to Delia."

Sam glared at him. Another memory came to mind. "Her bikini bottoms came off in the sea once," he reminisced. "Because of a big wave. She screamed a lot. And I had to give them back to her."

Elliot just stared at him.

"But I wasn't allowed to go near her. She made me stand ten feet away and throw them to her."

"That's great, Sam. And completely not what I was asking."

"Well, that's the closest we've been," he said snidely, "alright?"

"Yes, that's more than alright. That's _very_ reassuring."

"Why?"

"You're not at all serious with her," Elliot explained calmly. "She's not expecting anything tomorrow."

"Are you sure?" Sam asked worriedly. Because he knew Janey. And Janey was full of surprises.

"Okay, well have you ever, you know, _touched_ her?" he said awkwardly.

"In… what way?"

"Any way that wouldn't be deemed polite in public."

"Once. Accidentally. I was reaching for the pumpkin juice at dinner," he said sheepishly, "and she's shorter than I thought."

"So you've not even been to second base?" Elliot asked, looking kind of irritated by Sam's naivety.

Sam thought back to the day before—how Janey had put his hand on her chest and he'd freaked out and moved it. And then she'd told him afterwards that it was okay for him to act on it. "Err, no. Not unless her thigh counts."

"Of course it doesn't?"

"I slapped her bum once. By accident. The first time," he clarified. "The second time I did it on purpose," he said with a wicked grin.

"And has she… touched you?" Elliot asked, ignoring him and looking even more uncomfortable.

Sam cast his mind back. She'd put his head on his lap on the train ride home. "Once she kicked me at Quidditch practice because I hit a Bludger at her."

Elliot sighed. "I've no idea what any of that means but it doesn't sound sexy in the slightest."

"It wasn't," Sam said stupidly. "It was painful…"

"Okay, Sam, I think this conversation is over," Elliot declared, looking relieved and somewhat irritated. "The good news is that Janey's not expecting you to sleep with her tomorrow."

Sam felt relieved.

"The bad news is that when she _is_ ready you'll probably not even be able to read the signs properly. But good luck with that," he said, slapping his younger stepbrother on the back. "Let me know how it works out for you."

"Elliot, wait," Sam gulped, "I have a question."

"A serious question?"

Sam nodded.

"Go ahead."

"How long were you with Emma before you…?"

Elliot looked thoughtful, casting his mind back. "I met her when I was nineteen—at work. We were good friends for a couple of years. I first kissed her when I was… twenty-one? Started dating her soon after. We were dating for a couple of months before we slept together."

"A couple of months?" Sam asked in alarm.

"Yeah, but we were older. You're still in school, Sam, and you're only seventeen. Me and Emma had known each other for a long time too."

"Janey and I have known each other for six years," Sam pointed out.

"Look, Sam," Elliot sighed, now fully done with this conversation. "It's different for every couple. There are no rules, alright? You just have to figure out what works for _you_. As long as you and Janey—or whoever you're with—are on the same page, it doesn't matter."

"Okay," Sam gulped.

"Alright, are we done here?" Elliot asked. "Can I report back to Delia and let her know her idiot son is definitely _not_ sleeping with his girlfriend and is so clueless about mature relationships that he won't be any time soon?"

"Well, don't say it _exactly_ like that," Sam protested.

"Sam, seriously," he laughed, "are we done here?"

"Yeah. Thanks… I guess."

"Can I make a suggestion?"

"What?"

"If you ever want to ask any more questions, or need advice or whatever: go to Kayleigh."

Sam smirked. "Noted."

Elliot returned his smile, opening the door. He left with a nod of his head. "Good luck."

Sam returned to the bottom bunk, feeling a little embarrassed but also kind of relieved. He and Janey were fine, he assured himself. They were taking things at their own pace—everybody else was just making a big thing out of nothing.

He reached for his phone, hurriedly typing a response to Janey's lingering 'goodnight' text. _I miss you too. I can't wait to see you tomorrow. Sweet dreams xxx_

* * *

 **** ** _Author's Note:_** _Italicised lyrics and title inspiration from Ariana Grande's 'Almost Is Never Enough' ft. Nathan Sykes_


	13. At The Ballet

**Chapter 13 – At The Ballet**

* * *

 _Mother always said I'd be very attractive  
_ _When I grew up, when I grew up  
_ ' _Different' she said, with a special something  
_ _And a very, very personal flair_

 _And though I was eight or nine  
_ _Though I was eight or nine  
_ _Though I was eight or nine  
_

 _I hated her_

 _Now, 'different' is nice but it sure isn't pretty  
_ ' _Pretty' is what it's about  
_ _I'd never met anyone who was 'different'  
_ _Who couldn't figure that out  
_

 _So beautiful, I'd never live to see  
_ _But it was clear, if not to her  
_ _Well, then, to me_

* * *

Janey was anxious.

Wasn't it enough that Sam had completely freaked out when he'd found out she lived on so-called 'Millionaire's Row'? And now he was actually coming to her house?

She had just been so lonely the night prior, so desperate for his company. She had been to his house; it was logical that she should invite him round to hers. But unlike her trip to the Tylers', she and Sam would be alone in the house. That in itself didn't make Janey anxious, but she feared, idiot that he was, that Sam would think she was inviting him round for… _more._

But then again, this was _Sam,_ Janey thought. He couldn't be more oblivious if he tried. She had physically put his hand on her chest and still he had not realised that was an open invitation to second base.

She could be stood naked on the driveway when he arrived and he'd think he was coming round for dinner.

Not that she was planning on doing that. Good grief, what would the neighbours think…

What would they do, though?—Janey wondered. She and Sam—alone in the house?

Taylor, Rose, and Gwen had been round before. They'd done generic girly things—the kind of things Janey had wanted to do with her friends from school as no more than a Muggle girl, back in her childhood days pre-Hogwarts. And which, of course, she had never been able to do. She had never had 'friends' round until then.

And she'd never, in all her life, had a boyfriend round.

Sam was very sweet. He'd probably happily let Janey paint his nails and do his hair if that's what she really wanted, or engage in vapid gossip, rifling through magazines. Hilarious as she'd find that though, that wasn't what Janey planned on doing with the day. What were couples supposed to _do_ together, though?

Besides the obvious.

Janey would show him the house—that in itself would take a fair bit of time—but then what? At his house, she'd been in the constant company of his family (excluding those few stolen moments)—they'd had dinner and conversed. Janey supposed she could introduce Sam to the few members of staff that were permanently in the Davingtons' residence (although that would probably completely overwhelm him), but there were certainly no additional people to get to know or engage in conversation with.

And dinner? Janey hadn't thought about food. Was she supposed to feed Sam? She hadn't cooked a single meal in her life, but again, wouldn't it just overwhelm him if she had her chef whip something up at her request?

So if they weren't meeting family, or eating, or talking to each other (because what were they supposed to talk about?), or snogging (well, they should probably stave off for a little while, at least) then what exactly were they going to do that day?

 _Watch a film_ , a sarcastic voice in Janey's mind answered. _Bake a cake._ _Do a freaking jigsaw puzzle._

The closer it got to the time of Sam's arrival, the more Janey realised she was going to completely bore her boyfriend to death. Maybe she _should_ take her top off, just to spice it up a bit…

Janey stood alone in her kitchen. It was a vast, pristine open-plan layout, with one wall completely made of glass and looking out onto the swimming pool she had never been in. The sun made everything glisten, beautiful and gleaming.

Janey felt like she was in a glass prison.

And she'd _been_ imprisoned, she bitterly recalled. She had feared for her life, she had known real entrapment. And yet this—her vast, luxurious 'mansion' of a house, which anybody would kill to reside in—felt like the real cell.

There was something beautiful about being at Hogwarts. Something beautiful about the simplicity of it all—the uniformity and regulations. As much as Janey liked being unique, and craved attention, it was so peaceful and grounding to be one of a thousand witches and wizards alike. Just a normal student around people who were, whilst wildly different from what could be considered 'normal,' all the same.

Janey feared Sam's reaction, again recalling how offended he'd seemed upon the discovery that she was, essentially, a millionaire. Would he be jealous? Angry? Or just overwhelmed by her home?

Maybe it was too much. Maybe it had been a mistake in so spontaneously inviting him over.

Janey reached for her phone in a panic, having just about decided to call and cancel Sam's invitation—she could pretend she was ill, perhaps, or that something had come up—but as fate would have it, the doorbell sounded, signalling to Janey that someone was at the gate. She swallowed the lump in her throat, placing the phone back on the counter with mildly shaking hands.

"No, don't," Janey insisted with authority, as the woman cleaning the floor made to go and respond to the arrival. "It's for me," she nervously explained, though the woman looked like she couldn't care less. "It's, err… it's my boyfriend."

Silence.

"I'll go… let him in," Janey mumbled to herself.

It was a beautiful day, making the entire estate glisten. Pretty, Janey wondered, or just flashy? It took her far from the hustle and bustle of London, regardless of its location, with the pristine white walls, the grass so green it looked artificial, and, of course, the pool.

Janey put on her trademark sunglasses as she made her way down the drive—white-framed and oversized. They covered most of her face, shielding the expression in her eyes, and with the short summery playsuit she was wearing, she felt at one with the extravagance of the house. Keen to make an impression, Janey went for the air of luxurious hostess, like she couldn't care less about the indulgent surroundings. If she acted like it was no big deal, neither would Sam.

She was very wrong.

Sam's jaw was literally hanging down as he peered through the iron bars of the gate, much in the same way most of the Muggle (and even the non-Muggle) first-years did upon seeing Hogwarts for the first time. (And much like Janey had at seeing the cosy, homely décor of Sam's own abode).

"This isn't Charlie and the Chocolate Factory," she scoffed.

Sam stared at her like he'd only just noticed her. "What?"

"Close your mouth, idiot."

Sam obliged, now grinning due to Janey's presence. He was dressed very summery too, Janey observed with fondness. Shorts and a T-shirt, but the casualness suited him well. She was used to the Hogwarts uniform, with the gleaming Prefect's badge that she'd loathed for so long. (On him—not on her).

"Hi," he beamed at her, still staring through the bars like a convict.

"Hi," Janey beamed back, feeling oddly fluttery.

"This is real, isn't it?"

"What?"

"You actually live here. This isn't just a wind-up."

"No," Janey snorted. "I didn't rent this out for a bit of grandeur. I live here."

"And not just, like… a summer house?"

"No. When I'm not at Hogwarts, I'm here," she clarified, trying to act calm and casual about it all.

Sam just nodded, as though he too was forcing himself to act calm and casual about it all. As though he had not just stepped into a world the likes of which he'd never known. Stupid, really, when you considered the wizarding world they were so accustomed to.

"Stand back," Janey instructed.

"What—why?"

"Just do it."

Sam obliged, looking wary of Janey's instruction, relinquishing his grip on the gate. He watched with deep curiosity as she tapped away at something—a keypad, he guessed—before the gates began to open outwards, a gentle electric whirring filling the air.

Sam's jaw fell back down.

"It's electricity, Sam, not magic," Janey scoffed.

"I've just never seen a gate like this that hasn't been in the movies," Sam gulped, thinking of the insignificant wooden gate that kept the dog from running amok in the neighbourhood of his own home.

Janey felt uncomfortable. If he was that blown away merely by the _gate_ then she was in big trouble when it came to the actual house. "Are you okay?"

"What? Oh—yeah. Of course," Sam insisted, forcing a smile. "Just impressed, that's all."

Janey returned the smile with unease, beckoning Sam to step foot onto her property.

"Well," Janey announced, motioning to the house in the near distance, "this is it."

Sam was using all his strength trying not to overreact and freak out. "It's…"

"Big?"

"Nice," Sam gulped. "Very nice. Very… white."

Beautiful in the summer, foreboding in the winter, Janey thought to herself. "Come on," she said, reaching for Sam's hand and pulling him up the drive, fearful that he wouldn't be able to move by himself, awed as he was.

"Don't you want to shut the gate?" he asked.

"No, it shuts itself."

"Of course it does."

Janey felt proud rather than self-conscious as she and Sam made their way up the house—it was the only thing she knew how to do in order to ground herself. She felt his frantic gaze flicker from side-to-side, taking in every exquisite detail of the well-maintained garden and its extravagant decorations—flowers, fountains, and ornaments galore.

"It's beautiful," he breathed.

Janey couldn't be sure whether he'd meant to say it out loud or not, but she remained silent.

"And so are you," Sam said quickly, now accompanied by a shy smile. "In case I didn't tell you today."

 _You haven't ever told me,_ Janey thought, but she decided to keep it to herself. _Cute_ , he had said, adorable _,_ hot _—_ but never beautiful.

Janey was starting to wonder whether anybody had.

She blushed, smiling shyly herself, but Sam wasn't paying attention, more engrossed in his surroundings once more. Janey didn't blame him. She remembered, vividly, her first trip to Diagon Alley.

As they approached the front door, the lady who had been cleaning the floor earlier was making her way out, nodding politely to Janey as she passed. Sam looked to her questioningly. "That wasn't your…?"

"She's just a cleaner," Janey explained, curious but also fearful of what Sam had been going to ask. _Mum?_

Sam paused for a moment, trying to figure out whether she was joking or not. "You have a cleaner?" he eventually asked. "An actual cleaner?"

"We have a few, sure," Janey said with a shrug. _No big deal_.

"You have _actual_ staff?"

"Sam…"

"How many?"

"I don't know—five?"

Sam let out a low whistle. "Wow, okay. So, like—"

But Janey cut him short, not wanting to get into details about her household employees, instead walking into the house ahead of Sam, hoping he'd follow without comment. He did so, all words once again lost as he was awed and overwhelmed by the grandeur of the place Janey called 'home.'

He swore, unapologetic, and Janey found it hard not to smile.

"Janey, this is unreal."

"I'm afraid it's perfectly real," she said sheepishly, looking upon the polished marble and gleaming surfaces with distaste. There was so little furniture, so little to make it feel like a proper home. Not like Sam's house with all its photographs and mementos.

"If I'd known you lived _here_ , I'd have been interested in you a lot sooner."

"Wow, Sam, thanks," Janey said. But she knew he was joking, and so was she. "Come on," she urged once more, retaking his hand, "let me show you it all."

Sam did his best not to overreact with every new room that Janey took him in, starting in the kitchen and working her way around, but it was proving difficult. Everything was so neat, so _grand._ It suited her, of course. It made perfect sense that this would be where Janey lived, but still, Sam was blown away. He had not known real people lived like this.

Much less that he'd be lucky enough to date one.

 _No_ , Sam cursed himself, feeling guilty and ashamed. He wasn't lucky to be dating Janey because of her house and her lifestyle. He was lucky to be dating her because she was… well, _her._ He'd never been a materialistic man, and he still felt guilty when he thought of how he'd initially reacted when Janey had revealed her financial status. He had been embarrassed, and he didn't want to relive that.

It was just a house, that was all. Everybody had one. So what if Janey's was a little larger than average, a little more luxurious?

Sam let out another exclamation of surprise as they got round to the living room, despite his best efforts. But unlike with the other times, it wasn't because of the impressiveness of his surroundings (though he was still deeply overwhelmed) but because of the large black and white portraits that adorned either side of the mantelpiece.

It was the first indication of any kind of ownership about the property, the only personal touches Sam had seen so far.

The girl featured in the two shots was young, about eight years old maybe, cute but not in an obvious way, a smile full of braces, and wide-rimmed glasses that made her eyes look unnaturally large.

Janey had since removed her sunglasses, but Sam didn't need to see her irises to know they were the same ones shining from within the photographs. Even in black and white, distorted by the glasses, they were identical.

"That's not… you?" Sam asked uncertainly. The eyes were a perfect match, but other than that there was nothing to indicate that the girl in the pictures was Janey. Had she a sibling he hadn't known about? Could the girl perhaps even be a cousin, or Janey's mother at a young girl?

"That's me," Janey said drily, glaring at the photos. "I've asked him to take them down a million times but he never does." There was such resentment in her voice, such hostility, that Sam almost dared not to pursue it.

"Woah," he said, with awe and disbelief, approaching the photos to get a better look. She was a plain girl, awkward in front of the camera, but with an innocence so pure and childlike that Sam felt wholly endeared. "I can't believe this is you," he murmured. "You look so…"

" _Different?"_ Janey asked through gritted teeth, something shooting through her with the force of a thousand painful memories.

 _You're just… different, Janey, that's all. You've got a special something, and a very, well, personal flair I suppose. You'll be so very attractive when you grow up, don't worry. Just look at your mother!_

"Young," Sam said absentmindedly, oblivious to Janey's seething anger. "I didn't know you wore glasses."

"I don't."

He looked at her in confusion. "Well, you know, you _did._ "

Janey's expression was stony and hardened—the way she'd perfected it over the years. "I wear contacts now," she mumbled. "Glasses were an inconvenience. I don't like the way they feel on my face."

And yet, Sam thought, she'd live in her sunglasses if she could…

"How old were you?" he asked gently. "In these photos, I mean."

"Eight," Janey replied monotonously. "Maybe nine. My mother was desperate to have professional shots done of me. I begged her to let me wait until my braces had come off before we had them done but she wouldn't listen."

"I like the braces," Sam shrugged. "Very cute."

Janey's eyes glazed over as she talked. Whether of sorrow, anger, or pain, Sam didn't know. But he didn't ask. He just listened patiently.

"It was all her 'mum' friends, you see. They'd all had professional shoots for their daughters, and she was desperate to do the same. Some of the girls who had them done had been offered small modelling jobs for things—stuff that their mums could brag about—and my mum was so desperate to be able to do the same. The only problem was," Janey said stiffly, "I didn't look like those other girls. And my mother knew that, perfectly well."

"But you… you did some modelling, didn't you?" Sam asked, recalling a very bossy loud-mouthed Janey boasting about it on their very first day at Hogwarts. "Weren't you a 'child star'?" he asked, laughing gently, trying to get her to smile.

"No, Sam," Janey said quietly, looking at him with very definite pained eyes, "I lied. I lied about all that."

"Oh."

Sam didn't know what else to say. It didn't matter to him, not really. It wasn't like Janey had lied to him personally, or about something big. He had always known how much Janey liked to exaggerate things—much less nowadays, but certainly back in the day—always striving for attention.

But he was seeing something different here, something he'd never seen in Janey before. Humility. Honesty. Innocence.

 _Vulnerability._

Whether any of them had ever really believed Janey about the stories she'd told of modelling and minor TV appearances was irrelevant. Those who knew her well didn't particularly care. Few had been awed. How could they—when they were in a place such as Hogwarts? Muggle success and popularity had been of little significance to them.

But it had defined Janey in her own mind.

And it had not even been real.

"I wanted to be what my mother wanted me to be," Janey said quietly. "The daughter she wanted to boast about to her friends, but couldn't. The daughter she could be proud of, but wasn't."

"Janey—"

"Maybe she thought the camera could do something magical. Maybe she thought it could change me—could at least manipulate me into having the appearance of the daughter she so badly wanted. The daughter she could proudly call her own."

Sam closed his mouth, feeling some of the raw, sorrowful pain that Janey spoke with in his own heart, finding himself resenting a woman he had never even met.

Janey stared at the portraits with glassy eyes, full of disdain. "She put them up anyway. She had to. She paid good money for them."

She paused for a moment, still staring at the photos, and Sam wondered whether he should say something.

"A month or so later was when they got divorced—my parents," Janey went on. "She took everything she could, and my dad just let her." She paused once more, her mouth small and tight-set, pressed into a line so thin that her lips had almost disappeared. "She didn't want the photos."

Sam swallowed the lump in his throat. As Janey stared at the portraits of her eight-year-old self, Sam stared at the sixteen-year-old in front of him, full of colour and life.

And sorrow.

"Janey—"

"I'll show you the rest of the house."

"But—"

She was already gone.

* * *

"My room," Janey announced coyly, pressing her back against the closed door, wooden but white, just like the rest of the house. Sam had seen every room in Janey's house now—every inch of her property, save for the back garden. She had left her own bedroom to last.

Sam had been impressed by the house, naturally so, but something had changed. By the fifth or sixth room the mesmerising appeal of a lavishly decorated interior had started to lessen, each room just as flashy and impressive as the one before.

He was more interested, and far more moved, by Janey. He found that he watched _her_ rather than the surroundings she was showing him—though she was oblivious—studying her expression, her demeanour, every little detail in her face. But that brief glimpse of the Janey he'd never seen before—the raw, innocent, vulnerable little girl—was gone, buried away where she was sure she belonged.

There had been nothing else of personal value within the house. Other than those two photographic portraits, there had been nothing to suggest Janey even lived there. Sam wondered whether her bedroom would tell a different tale. He wondered if it would be as minimalist as the rest of the house or remain a shrine to her childhood, just as his had done.

His query was answered as Janey pushed open the door.

The first thing Sam noticed, just as Janey had done in his room, was the bed. Not because it was a bunk bed like his own (he hadn't honestly expected it to be), but because it was _huge._ Bigger than anything he'd seen, bigger than his parents' bed, even. He thought about how cramped they'd been, cuddled up on Sam's tiny mattress, and how much more comfortable it would be to repeat certain actions on Janey's instead.

Sam looked away, feeling flushed.

Janey's room was neat, he noted, but nowhere near as clinical as the rest of the house. For that reason, Sam felt oddly reassured. Both queries had been somewhat correct. The interior of Janey's room certainly reflected the rest of the house—white and luxurious, with clean surfaces and well-coordinated decoration. But there were significantly more personal touches, too.

Flashes of hot pink—the colour Sam had picked up on being Janey's favourite over the years—were spread here and there via the rug, the lampshade, the curtains and such. Posters of singers and actresses he was only vaguely aware of were carefully pinned to the wall, and, making his chest swell, there on her bed, amongst the abundance of pillows and cushions, were a handful of stuffed toys, the likes you'd expect to see in a child's room. There were no photos, anywhere in sight.

It reflected Janey well—her bedroom. Caught somewhere between a child and an adult, unsure about which should prevail.

"Who's that?" Sam asked, pointing to the only poster which featured a man. A really, desperately attractive man.

Janey looked at him like he was stupid. "Zac Efron."

"Oh." Sam had no idea who that was. He looked at the adjacent poster, which featured a very beautiful, very leggy blonde. "And that's, err—"

"Taylor Swift."

Sam actually _had_ heard of her.

"So," Janey said brightly, "what do you think?"

Looking at the bedroom, you'd never once suspect the girl who lived there was anything but a Muggle. There was no indication of magical heritage whatsoever. But then again, Sam supposed, was his bedroom really any different?

"It needs more Star Wars memorabilia," he teased, prompting Janey to roll her eyes.

She looked like she was about to say something else, but a movement by the door distracted them both. Fearing her father actually _was_ home and was coming to kick him out, Sam turned to the door in panic, relaxing when something far less intimidating walked in: a cat.

"You have a cat?" Sam asked, feeling endeared. He was struggling to remember whether or not Janey had already shared this with him; he wanted to be an attentive boyfriend, after all.

"Dolly," Janey introduced. The White Russian cat stared up at Sam with unblinking eyes and let out a soft mew.

"Is she… sizing me up?" Sam asked, amused.

"Probably. She doesn't really like people. Get on her good side, and you've done something right."

 _Just like Janey_ , Sam thought to himself. But he didn't voice it; he wasn't an idiot.

Instead, he smiled. "I'll do my best, then."

Sam hadn't thought of Janey as a particularly caring person, and the fact that she had a cat made him feel somewhat blissful. Sam was a dog person, he always had been, but he liked cats well enough. In fact, he'd always noticed the feline qualities Janey herself possessed. She was very standoffish, very solitary—she was capable of being affectionate, but only on her own terms.

Sam thought back to the portraits in the living room, and the tiny little insight into Janey's past that she'd shared with him, wondering if she'd reveal anything more. Maybe that was the key—maybe it was being in her own home, being on her own terms, which made her comfortable enough to open up. Even so, he wouldn't push her.

But he did walk over to her—Dolly, her cat, still staring at him with wide, thoughtful eyes—and stopped in front of her, staring down with a smile.

"What?" Janey asked suspiciously, though she was smiling too.

They were in front of the window—a huge, bay window that covered the majority of the wall and looked out over the back garden. Sam was reminded of the alcove of Rosewood Manor, in which they'd shared their second kiss, just a few months ago. How quickly and how far they'd come, he thought.

And, just like in that little alcove, he kissed her, responding to her unanswered question.

Dolly mewed, and the sun shone, and Sam felt Janey's relief.

Short but sweet, Sam pulled away, intending to linger—but something caught his eye. "Oh my god," he breathed, eyes wide.

"What?" Janey asked in a panic. Had she done something wrong?

But Sam wasn't even looking at Janey; he was looking over her shoulder and out into the garden. "You have a _swimming pool?"_

Janey rolled her eyes.

"My god, that's awesome."  
"It's no big deal," Janey said with a shrug, following Sam's gaze to stare at the pool. It wasn't huge, but it wasn't small either. And it did look beautiful in the sunlight, she realised, with the sun bouncing off of it, making it positively _gleam._ It was like a huge, blue mirror. Very refreshing, too.

Sam looked like he'd just won the lottery. "Can we go in it?" he asked excitedly, as though he was asking his mother for permission.

Janey folded her arms. "I… ah…."

"Oh, come on, it will be fun!"

 _Would it?_ —Janey wondered. For Sam, maybe. But… well, he didn't know. And she didn't want to tell him.

"Are you just trying to get me into a bikini?" Janey asked instead, teasing, of course.

Sam blushed, looking suddenly flustered. "N-no—I—"

"Sam, I was kidding."

"Oh. Yeah. I mean—"

"You can go in the pool if you really want to," Janey said, eyes shining.

Sam looked a little relaxed. "What—you wouldn't come in with me?"

Janey dropped her gaze. "I, ah…" She shrugged. "I'll… sit on the side." _Oh, he was being persistent._ Janey was desperately thinking of something to distract him—some alternative—but she could think of nothing better.

"Oh, come on," Sam said playfully.

"I don't want to get my hair wet."

"You don't have to."

"Well…. it'll be cold."

Sam looked very pointedly at the blazing sun. There wasn't a cloud in the sky. "I really don't think it will be."

"Okay, but—but the cleaners have only _just_ cleaned the pool, and we're not supposed to—"

"Janey, are you lying to me?"

Janey gulped, forcing herself to meet Sam's gaze. He looked, thankfully, mostly amused, but also a little curious. Innocently so.

"Why don't you want to go in the pool?" he asked gently.

Janey was still hugging herself. "I… don't like the water."

"You always go in the sea when we're at the beach," Sam pointed out.

 _Only because it's shallow._

"Only because you _make_ me," Janey scoffed, none too convincingly.

"Oh, come on, Janey," Sam said again, his eyes full of pleading. "It'll be _fun_ ," he insisted, reaching for her hands and playing with them. Janey just watched the gesture in silence. "It's a beautiful day; nobody's here. It will be _fun_. It will be refreshing."

"Sam, I—" The breath caught in Janey's throat. She was… _embarrassed._ But she knew he'd never drop it.

"What?" Sam asked as gently as before, with deep, sincere understanding in his eyes. Or, at least, a want to understand.

"I've never been in the pool before," Janey forced herself to say.

"What?" Sam snorted before he could stop himself. "Wait"—he looked confused—"you're not joking?"

"No," Janey said. "No, I've… I've never been in before."

"Not once?"

"No."

Sam looked even more confused. "But why not? Is it dangerous?" he asked, suddenly looking anxious.

"Dangerous?"

"Yeah, I mean—does it have weird chemicals in it or something? Or… bugs?"

"What— _no!"_ Janey denied, looking disgusted. "Nothing like that," she dismissed. "I just… haven't ever gone in it before. And," she gulped, "I'm not crazy on starting."

Sam felt dumbfounded. How could Janey, lucky enough to have a real swimming pool all to herself—and a pretty big one at that—never use it? Not even once? "Not even as a child?" Sam asked, thinking of the young, somewhat dorky Janey in the photographic portraits downstairs.

"Absolutely not."

"Well, okay." But Sam didn't let that dissuade him. "So it'll be fun if—"

"Sam, I can't swim," Janey cut across, feeling exasperated. It came out in a rush, somewhat incoherent. But she felt like if she didn't say it they'd just keep going round in circles. And once it was out, she did actually feel a little relieved.

There was a pause.

Janey bit her lip, looking up at Sam with questioning eyes. He was still holding her hands, but they suddenly felt awkward in his.

Sam cocked his head; he couldn't be sure if Janey was joking or not. After all—wasn't that the least believable of the excuses she'd given him so far? "Of course you can," he eventually said, his tone playful but uncertain.

Janey looked taken aback. "No, Sam, this isn't a joke; I really can't swim."

"We've _been_ swimming together," Sam reminded her. Did she really think he was that stupid? "We've—we've been in the sea together. At the beach. I've _seen_ you—"

"That wasn't swimming," Janey interrupted, feeling put-out. "That was just… standing. That was waist-high at most. I can _stand_ in water," she said sarcastically. "I just… can't swim."

Sam let go of Janey's hands. "You're being serious?" he asked. He didn't want to be insensitive, but he was so sure she was joking. The shy awkwardness in her demeanour let him know otherwise.

"I truly am."

"But—"

"Sam, I never learnt to swim, alright? Everybody was always too busy; I had other, more important hobbies. And then, when I was eleven, I was shipped off to Hogwarts."

She made it sound so unappealing, Sam thought.

"It just never happened, alright?"

"But—but you have a pool," he said stupidly.

"Which has been untouched since the day we arrived."

 _What a waste_ , Sam couldn't help but think. But his heart went out to Janey, finding it endearing that she couldn't apparently swim. He'd always taken it for granted; his family had gone to the beach every summer, and all of his siblings and himself had had swimming lessons as children. It wasn't something he'd ever thought about too much.

"But at the beach," Sam started thinking aloud, and then his face fell. "Is that why you were screaming so much?" he asked uncomfortably. "When I picked you up and pretended I was going to throw you in?"

"No, Sam," Janey laughed, rolling her eyes.

"Because I didn't know, I swear! And if I had, I _never_ would have done it. I mean, I wouldn't have done it anyway—you know that, right? I was only joking. I was only… I was only _playing._ "

"Sam—"

"I thought you were only overreacting because you didn't want to get your hair wet," Sam said in a weak voice.

"To some extent, I _was_ ," Janey assured him. She softened her tone and expression as best she could. "I'm not _afraid_ of the water, Sam; it's not a big deal. I just can't swim, okay?"

Sam still felt guilty, though. Janey was right—it wasn't a big deal, and it's not like he _should_ have known—but it was just another somewhat significant detail about her life that he hadn't known. And one that he felt like he should have known. With the little insight about her mother and her childhood earlier, and now this, Sam felt like he was slowly starting to uncover more about Janey.

It both frightened and excited him.

"I have a proposition," he said eagerly.

Janey looked suspicious.

"I'm going to teach you to swim."

She was already rolling her eyes again. "Sam…"

"No, no, no, trust me, it will be fun!" he assured her. "It will be… like… couple-bonding!" he said, increasingly more excited.

But Janey didn't look thrilled. "I'm sure there are plenty of other things we can do to bond as a couple," she scoffed.

Sam found himself blushing. When Janey caught on, she blushed too.

"I just meant—"

"Just say _yes_ ," Sam pleaded. "Janey, please _?_ It _will_ be fun. It's the summer, we've got so much time to ourselves, and the thought of that huge pool being untouched for _years_ is really kind of depressing."

"You're relentless!"

"Is that a yes?"

"Are you going to harass me again, like you did when I didn't want to meet your family?" Janey teased.

Sam's eyes lit up. "You make an _excellent_ point!" he said gleefully. "You didn't want to meet my family but you did, and you loved it, and _I_ was right. How do you know that this time will be any different?"

"You just got lucky," Janey dismissed.

"Janey, you've got to start trusting me," Sam said gently. "What's the worst that could happen?"

In truth, Janey didn't know why she was so opposed to the idea. Every point Sam made was perfectly valid. And besides, she certainly wasn't against him stripping down to his trunks…

It was just, as usual, she was stubborn, and she didn't like change. Being in the water put her out of her comfort zone; she had no control. Sam teaching her to swim would mean she was putting her trust in someone else—something she tried to avoid at all costs. It wasn't that she didn't trust _him_ , especially, it was just that she didn't trust _anyone._ Janey didn't want to be that vulnerable; she didn't want to, quite literally, put her life in someone else's hands.

And _that_ was why she'd freaked out when Sam had playfully threatened to throw her in the sea.

"What are you thinking?" Sam asked in a gentle voice.

Janey's body tensed. "I, err, nothing."

Sam looked disheartened. "So…?" he prompted, perking back up. "Come on, Janey, it will be _fun."_

 _Well,_ Janey supposed, _it wasn't like she had a better alternative._ She took a breath. "Fine," she sighed, finally unwrapping her arms from around her body. "But I'm not wearing a bikini."

"Good," Sam said, grinning, "neither will I."

* * *

Twenty minutes later, Janey had plucked up the courage to meet Sam by the poolside. She had taken an unnecessarily long time to pick out her bathing suit. It was stupid, really, that she had so many, considering she couldn't even swim. But in truth, she knew she was only trying to delay the inevitable.

Janey knew Sam would only come looking for her if she didn't materialise soon, and twenty minutes was more than enough time for her to get changed. So, reluctant and nervous, she set foot outside, clad in a simple and modest bathing suit in navy blue, her infamous oversized sunglasses, and carrying a towel.

The heat from the sun was intense but soothing on Janey's exposed skin. It really was a beautiful day, and she supposed she'd prefer being outside rather than inside.

Sam was already in the pool, and he hadn't seen her yet. Janey used his obliviousness as an opportunity to watch him, unobserved. The breath caught in her throat as she watched him glide through the water, graceful, powerful, the water rolling off his back. He had very broad shoulders, Janey mused, and she couldn't remember having ever been so attracted to him before.

How had she, for months, if not _years_ , concealed the fact that she was so attracted to him? It was relieving, she thought with a coy smile, still silently watching him, that her emotions were now all out in the open. Janey still found it a bit awkward to be so liberal with Sam, having suppressed her attraction for so long, but knowing that they were both in the same boat was reassuring.

Although, in that moment, with him gliding through the water and her stood at the side in an unflattering, conservative one-piece, Janey found the thought of Sam being remotely attracted to her in the way she was to him highly laughable.

Sam reached the edge of the pool, and Janey was too distracted to pretend she hadn't been watching him. As Sam turned and caught sight of her, he broke out into a grin and ran his hand through his hair, shaking some of the water droplets out. Janey just gulped, glad the sunglasses covered most of her face so he couldn't see her blush.

"Hey!" he called out. "Nice costume."

"Shut up."

"What?" Sam laughed innocently. "I'm not kidding." He swam towards her. When he got to the edge of the pool, he rested his forearms on the side, hoisting his torso up out of the water.

Janey bit her lip. She came to meet him, cautiously dipping her big toe in the water. It wasn't as cold as she thought it would be; the water felt refreshing.

"You might want to take your sunglasses off," Sam told her, watching the movement fondly.

"Fine, but I'm not putting my head under the water— _at any expense."_

Sam just continued grinning. "We'll see."

Janey pushed her sunglasses up onto her head and removed her foot from the pool. She stared at Sam with a condemning glare. "I'm being serious. My head is _not_ going under the water, you understand? I really don't like getting my hair wet, and I don't want my makeup to run."

"Alright," Sam agreed. "Baby steps. Now"—he beamed up at her—"get in the pool."

Janey eyed the vast expanse of water with a lump in her throat.

"It's not deep," Sam assured her. "And I promise—I won't let you drown."

Janey ignored him, transfixed by the water. She kept her eyes on it as she lowered herself down to the pool's edge, tentatively slipping her legs in next to Sam. The water ran up her legs, cool and refreshing, and Janey kicked slightly, feeling weightless. "I might just stay like this…."

"You can't," Sam protested, "you made a promise!"

Janey continued to kick her legs out, enjoying the feeling. She shrugged. "I could just watch you."

"That wouldn't be half as fun."

 _Janey disagreed._

"Here." Sam held out a hand, still supporting his body on the edge of the pool with his other forearm. He was so beautiful, with the water droplets glistening on his bare skin, that Janey was almost afraid to touch him. " _Trust me_ ," he insisted.

Janey warily eyed Sam's hand. He didn't realise how big a request he was making.

But Sam didn't even give Janey the time to respond. Perhaps figuring out that trying to coax her into the pool on her own terms could potentially take _hours_ , in one quick, clean movement, he grabbed one of her idly-swinging legs and pulled her into the pool.

Janey shrieked for about five seconds—three seconds longer than she was actually airborne for—before realising she was perfectly supported, head and shoulders firmly above the water's surface. Sam had a tight hold on her, powerful arms instinctively wrapping around her waist before she could go under. It was so easy to hold her in the water—she was small and light as it was, but the water further aided this.

Janey felt breathless after her adrenaline-fuelled five seconds of shrieking and uncertainty. She, too, had acted instinctively, her legs wrapping around Sam's waist. And now they were in a state of catharsis, two teenagers in a pool, affectionate and vulnerable.

Janey's heart was beating so wildly, their chests pushed together, that she was certain Sam could feel it. She felt the surprising warmth of his naked chest pressed up against her, his arms tight and constricted around her back, vividly aware of every muscle in his body and every inch of skin that touched hers.

She had been held by him so many times, in so many different situations, that it took her by surprise how awed and nervous she felt in that moment. He was so much taller than her—something Janey viewed as a blessing—and though she felt anxious, she'd also never felt safer.

"I hate you," Janey tenderly whispered.

Sam's smile extended all the way to his eyes. It had been a while since they'd been that close, just lingering, taking in every tiny detail close-up, longing to close the distance without actually acting on it. Janey was taken back to the night in the armchair—the first time she'd ever kissed Sam tenderly, and not out of anger or some driving passion. She could have counted every glistening droplet of water that clung to his skin had she wanted to.

"I told you to trust me," Sam said coyly.

"You didn't give me a choice."

Sam's eyes continued to twinkle. "Sometimes that's the best way." He inspected her hair with a smirk. "And look at that," he teased, "not a single drop of water. Not so much as an eyelash out of place."

Janey felt suddenly shy. She had never felt safer, enfolded into his strong embrace, and yet she had never felt so completely exposed. "I'm so out of my depth," she whispered, her voice raw and breathy.

"I'm not going to drop you," Sam assured her. "We can go in the shallow end."

"That's not what I meant."

Their eyes found each other once more, and if there was any question that they'd gotten too comfortable with each other, too naturally at ease in their relationship, it was dismissed. Because they both felt that same fluttering sensation—that same unspoken connection that they'd felt during their first few kisses, shy and uneasy, testing the waters.

Janey felt refreshed, like she was reliving it all over again, even six weeks later. She ran a hand through Sam's hair, shaking some of the water droplets free. And when she kissed him, it was like kissing him for the first time all over again—gentle, and meaningful, and so deeply _real_. Maybe she was out of her depth, and maybe she was okay with that.

Janey rather thought she'd enjoy learning to swim.

* * *

 _ **Author's Note:** Italicsed lyrics and title inspiration from A Chorus Line's 'At The Ballet'_

 _I really didn't mean to not update for such a long time—I can only apologise. I know it's actually Wednesday today, but update day is changing from Saturday to Sunday. However, I won't be updating THIS Sunday as I have something special planned for the 7th for the one-year anniversary of 'A Forbidden Love' ending (how has it already been a year!?) so keep an eye out ;)_

 _I'm also really sorry this chapter wasn't very exciting (especially as you had to wait so long for it) but it will pick up soon, I promise!_

 _Thank you all so much for your patience_

 _~ Ever_


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